One Hundred Percent
by Kulkum
Summary: Nick Wilde has lost three years of his life after being injured in the line of duty. Desperately trying to remember, he wonders why everyone around him seems to be hiding something... Future fic
1. Chapter 1

**Day 1**

The fox was distinctly uncomfortable in the passenger side of the gray car as it pulled into another turn on the cliff side road that apparently led to their destination. He wasn't sure what he expected, in all honestly. If the rabbit who drove the car in silence lived out here, it was no wonder he had decided to become a cop. The pay must have been amazing to afford such a lofty abode, with a view of Zootopia that would remind anyone of how magnificent the city was when seen from the outside. What he saw – what he remembered – was another reason to question what he had been told. It was another example of how a fox like him would never reach the height promised by such a view; because of the city may have sparkled like a star when seen from a distance but it lost a great deal of its luster when seen from below. When seen through the eyes of those who lived on the streets, being thrown out of one business or another, being harassed by cops, watching mammals cross the street just to avoid being on the same sidewalk when he passed. That was the Zootopia he knew, the one he remembered.

Not one where he was a _cop._

His disposition was not helped by the fact that his head ached the longer he kept his eyes open. Even the large, extra dark sunglasses that the hospital had provided him with before leaving were not helping to block out all of the ache caused by the perfectly clear and bright winter's day. He leaned back in the seat, aware that the motion drew the attention of the rabbit again. Everything he did seemed to draw her attention. She was watching his every move with a twitching nose and eyes that were too intent and focused and… He couldn't really read what he saw on her face, in the high set of her ears. He didn't know enough about rabbits. But it didn't take a genius to figure out that she didn't trust him. He had seen the fox repellent she had worn with that tight little uniform, after all. He let his eyes fall closed.

 _"Officer, I'm afraid that we can't know when his memory will begin to return, or if it ever will. In cases like this, it could be as simple as waiting a few days for something to trigger a memory. But you have to be prepared for the actuality that he may never regain them at all."_

 _The throb in his head was dulled by the medication they had given him, and they clearly thought that he was asleep as they conversed just outside of the hospital room. He allowed them to continue thinking that, his eyes closed, his ears motionless but already directed towards the door. Why was the rabbit cop here, anyway? The last thing he remembered was… Was the naturalist's club. She had gotten the information she needed from the chronically high alpaca, and he had followed the poor little mammal outside. But beyond that, nothing. He assumed they parted ways: her returning to being the best-darned meter maid she could, and him returning to the streets._

 _Why the idea made him so excruciatingly sad, he didn't understand._

The grind of gravel under the tires drew him back to the present and had him opening his eyes. It was an action that he didn't want to regret, but did when the light lanced through the glasses, pierced his cornea, and seemed to focus on the back of his skull as an agonizing pain. The groan was unavoidable, quick and pained as he raised his paws to rest them on either side of his head. He nearly whimpered as the world around him swam slowly, his gut clenched and he felt the panic begin to rise when it just didn't stop!

The silky touch of a small paw on his forearm was felt, and the panic retreated. He kept his eyes closed, and didn't pull away when soft fingers stroked down the length of his arm slowly. The fact that the touch felt knowing, felt _good_ surprised him on every level. Only because it calmed his panic, and soon even the pain, prevented him from pulling away at first. He tilted his head forward, leaning forward to ease nausea that came with the pain and opened his eyes to stare at his own khaki-clad legs when the soft paw moved to his back.

"It's all right, partner," came her soft voice, causing his eyes to close again when she called him partner again. It just sounded so alien to be called that by someone who clearly had nothing but distaste for foxes. "You can take some medicine once we're inside. The doctors..."

"Don't call me that," he interrupted, even though he knew that the pain and confusion were feeding his irritation. That didn't stop him from shrugging his back away from her touch when the pain began to fade, and to his relief, she drew it back without complaint.

Without… Anything. Without a word, without a sound, without a snippy remark or witty comeback, which she had proven to be almost as good at as he was. There was just silence in the car, except for the sound of his own breathing and the throbbing in his head. When he rolled his head enough to rest his gaze on her, he saw her looking down at her paws in silence. Paws that were twisted together, wringing against one another so hard that her arms trembled. Or maybe the tremble came from her shoulders, which shook a little when she drew in a breath that hitched at the end before she released it slowly.

"The doctors said that the pain would fade," she said in a soft voice when she raised her eyes to him again. "The light sensitivity is normal with a head injury like this, so it will help if we get you out of the sun and into a dim room."

Turning his gaze away from her, in part because he didn't want to see the misery that was so plainly written on the cute little meter maid's face. Knowing that he was somehow the cause, he squinted when he looked out of the window towards the house; or the entrance to the house, anyway. It was a DenHouse, with the entrance, a garage, and some windows visible from the outside while the majority of the home was underground. It was something of an oddity outside of BunnyBurrow, but if he was honest with himself, being underground away from the sun would be a blessed thing right now. Then the thought struck him that he had no idea what officer Hippity Hopps' home life was like.

"So," he began in a slow drawl that came out a little drunker than he intended. "Is this where I meet the family? Again? You got a buck in there? Twenty or so kits waiting for mommy to get home? Am I called 'Uncle Nick' or something?"

He heard the car door open on her side, and by the time he had turned his gaze to where she had been sitting, all he got was a fresh shot of pain when the door was slammed a lot harder than it needed to be.

 **Day 2**

He was a cop.

The pictures on the wall told the story, even if he couldn't bring himself to believe it. A graduation ceremony, where the little bunny in a dress uniform – who was obviously no longer a meter maid, making him feel like a little bit of an ass for what he had told her a few days before. No. Not a few days before. He had to remember that – was pinning a shining brass shield to his crisp blue uniform on a bright day. Green eyes lingered for a long moment, seeing the smile on his muzzle as he puffed out his chest. He looked like a cheesy idiot, but a happy cheesy idiot. His gaze drifted to the selfie that he himself had taken from inside of what appeared to be a ZPD cruiser, capturing both him and the bunny as she rolled her eyes skyward from the driver's seat. Newspaper clippings, the most striking of which was the framed front page report that was headlined "Heroic ZPD Officer Stops Plot Against City's Predators" complete with a picture of her proudly standing beside him. He was even wearing the shirt and tie that he had been wearing the day they met, and the day after. The only slightly faded report under it started, _"Officer Judith Hopps of the ZPD, with the help of local fox, Nicholas Wilde, uncovered a plot to turn Zootopia against the predator population…"_

 _"I, Nicholas Wilde…"_

He turned his gaze away from the wall, walked over to the couch in the center of the living room, where a fire was going in the stone hearth. It cut the chill of the winter's day and give the house the warm and welcome scent of burning oak. He sat comfortably on the L-shaped couch as he reached into the cardboard box that Hopps had brought him from his own house. It was filled with this and that, little pieces of his career. The yellow ceremonial shoulder cord he had worn at his graduation, some less impressive clippings. He drew the wooden framed case out of the box again and held it with a silent reverence for a moment. His name was engraved on a silver plaque at the bottom of the cover, and through the glass, he could see the _medals_ of service from the ZPD _._ He knew what each one of them meant, even though he wasn't sure how he knew, and what each one of them would be awarded to an officer for. One was The Cross of Valor, another The Purple Heart, and one for outstanding community service above and beyond.

 _"…promise to be brave, loyal, helpful…"_

No memories came with any of it. And while a part of him, the same part of him that had wanted to be more than just a fox since he had been a kit, wanted it all to be true, he still couldn't see it. It was like watching a TV show where the hero looked like him but wasn't him. He saw himself in the pictures, and it was like looking into the eyes of a stranger. A stranger who was brave where he was a coward, who was strong where he was weak, a fox who wasn't being held down by some stupid event in his childhood and had made something of himself. He saw his name on the case with the medals but didn't feel like he had earned them. This wasn't him. This wasn't Nick Wilde, who's only real accomplishment had been figuring out that he could cheat tiny rich mammals out of their money with a simple pawsicle scam that took advantage of the Size Variation Consideration laws in the food market.

What had changed? What was different? Was it the bunny? The annoying ball of cuteness and fluff that he would have ditched a long time ago if she hadn't managed to hustle him? The same bunny who carried around fox repellent had made insulting remarks about articulation and hadn't batted an eyelash at the idea of forcing him to follow her around on some ridiculous otter hunt just because he had managed to outsmart the tax system.

It was… Wrong. All of it. He should just pack it up, leave this nice little house outside of the city and get back to the life he knew. He could pick up the hustle again. His customers were sure to be glad to have their old vendor back at the end of a hot day in Savanna Central, and he was sure Finnick would still be around. He would just need some start up cash. Maybe the rabbit had something here. Some money stashed away, or something she wouldn't notice was missing until he had…

 _"…and trustworthy."_

The fox sat silently in the living room of the house he didn't know, staring down at the medals he didn't remember earning, and thought of the life he wasn't sure was his. And decided that if there was even the smallest chance that it was true, and that this was his life…

 _Trust. Integrity. Bravery._

…That he would do anything to keep it.

 **Day 15**

His fingers rested over the keys of the keyboard in the silent bedroom, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he tapped his thumb over the Spacebar without actually pressing it. He tried again. _ZPD4life._ No. _Carrotcake._ No. _BunnyBorrow._ No. _MeterMaid._ No. Rolling his eyes a bit, he tapped in _tryeverything._ He was mildly surprised when the answer was again 'The password is incorrect. Reset Password?'

He frowned for a moment, considering the idea of seeing what her security question was before he dismissed it. Something about it all felt wrong, anyway. Sitting in her bedroom while she was off at work, doing the cop thing that he still couldn't remember, trying to hack into her computer. If he called the sad attempts at guessing her password _hacking_. He rolled his neck for a moment, feeling only the slightest ache in the back of his head from staring at the computer screen for so long. He only wanted to see if he could find some clues, some hints of what their partnership had been like. Case files, photos saved on the hard drive, E-mails. Anything he could find without telling her, so he didn't feel that expectant gaze lingering on him as she waited to see if he would remember anything. His ears twitched, that ever present feeling of nervousness making him hyper alert. Sort of like a kit sneaking into his dad's porn drawer while dad was away, expecting to get caught at any moment while looking at the pictures of naked bunnies; with their gray and white fur exposed, ears folded back in an adorably sexy way, thighs spread just enough so the…

Wait, vixens. Where had bunnies come from?

"Ugh," he grumbled as he looked around the bedroom for a long moment in silence. He had been living in this house with her for too long already, spending too much time with her. It had become a routine. She would come home from work; they would carefully dance around each other without actually saying much. She would gently press him to reveal if he remembered anything, and he would say that he didn't, which was the truth. Depending on how he was feeling, he would either share a meal with her on opposite sides of the couch over small talk about her day on the force – something that they both hoped might jog his memory – or he would deny and retreat into the guest room. He had found himself avoiding the second option the last two nights because even as she tried to hide it, she always looked a little sad when he turned her down.

It was unnerving, the way the sight of her bright amethyst eyes losing just a bit of that light made him feel unhappy himself. Or the fact that when her ears trembled with the effort to keep them upright after he had snapped at her just the night before, he wanted to reach out and touch them. Still them. Soothe them. Finding himself wanting to comfort her when his mission only days before in his mind had been to tear her down and show her the reality of the world.

His gaze drifted to the bed where he knew she slept every night. The uninteresting blue and white sheets, the fluffy pillows, the size of it. A little smirk crawled over his muzzle as he took in the oversized bed, which was more than large enough for multiple bunnies. This led him to think that she might have company now and then, a friendly romp with a buck or two maybe. He wasn't even aware of the little twitch of his muzzle until he realized it had curled before he tamped down on the strange anger made him want to rush over to sniff the damned bed to prove his own wandering mind wrong. Why was he even thinking about these things? He was supposed to be looking for clues; something to help him find out why he was here, what he was supposed to be remembering that he couldn't remember in his own damn house. Not worrying about whether or not Hopps brought home a boy bunny to play with now and then.

Releasing an annoying tsk at himself, he gave up on the computer and stood. Shoving his paws into his pockets and just stood there in silence, trying to remember… Something. His paws balled into fists, shaking with frustration when as usual nothing came.

 _"I'm not sure if it would be a good idea to tell him everything," the conversation outside of his door continued. The slow beeping of the machines beside him combined with the drugs in his system was slowly lulling him to sleep, but he held it off as he tried to focus on the conversation. Not an easy task as the pain in his head throbbed and threatened to blind him again. What had happened again? The doctor said he had been… Hit? Someone had hit him from behind. He had enemies, but aside from Mr. Big, he couldn't think of anyone who actually wanted him dead._

 _"But he doesn't remember anything about the past three years," came the softer, trembling voice of the bunny cop. His lips curved into a tired smile as he let his eyes slip closed. Bunnies were very emotional._

"Oh, you bunnies. So emotional."

The words slipped out easily, a mumbled whisper that came with the shadow of memory. Was it a memory? He couldn't focus on it, couldn't grasp it fully. Hopps. No, Judy.

No… Carrots.

He felt such relief, such affection for her. For his friend, as she rubbed her paw over a tear streaked cheek and started to drag her feet as she moved towards him…

And that was it. Four seconds of memory. Four seconds of memory that slowly went from shadowy and distant to clear as he focused on the details. The heat of the sun on his fur; the earthy, humid smell under the bridge mixed with the scent of rabbit, familiar and warm in his nose; the look of hope on her face when she wiped her own tears away, wearing blue jeans and a candy plaid shirt that made her look every bit the carrot farmer he had teased her about being. And the carrot pen in his paw.

The pen. He stared down at his empty paw pad for a moment, as if he expected it to be there again. Where was the pen? Why had he been holding it? Had she given it to him, let him off the hook in the end? Was that why she had been crying? He hadn't seen her wear it on her uniform when she left for work every morning, so maybe he still had it. The box! Maybe he had missed something.

Starting towards the door to the bedroom, he paused when his eyes grazed over the side table beside the bed. Walking over to it hesitantly, feeling an odd little kick in his heart that made his ears fall back as he reached out. His fingers closed on the tiny brass knob of the drawer, feeling the cool metal as something like dread tried to crawl over him before he pulled it open and leaned over to peek inside. It was surprisingly empty. A notepad, a black comb with a few strands of loose gray fur stick in the teeth, and the bright orange and green of the toy-like carrot pen. He picked it up with his thumb and forefinger gingerly, examining it for a moment as he considered the idea that it might not even be the same pen at all. But it was a recorder, with a clever little button on the side just right for tricking over confident foxes into helping sly little bunnies. He pushed the button and listened to his own voice come out of the speaker on the side.

 _"Of course I do, one-hundred percent."_

 **Day 21**

Playback number… Something. It was likely in the hundreds, at least. Trying to glean some small flash of memory from the words, some event to tie them to. Maybe a case they had worked on, or just some offhand comment; a promise he had made, or a joke; talk about loving his mother even crossed his mind, or an invitation back to meet her parents – the parents that had seemed delighted, if a little nervous, to speak to him over Skype on her phone a few nights before – or any number of things. But eventually, he had given up on trying to understand what the words meant. Now he just listened to them in hopes that they would trigger a memory.

 _Click._

 _"Of course I do, one-hundred percent."_

 _Click._

 _"Of course I do, one-hundred percent."_

 _Click._

A small paw came to rest over his with a surprisingly strong grip on his thumb, preventing him from playing it back again. With a weary sigh, he rolled his eyes towards the tiny bat-eared fox sitting on the stool beside him, one dark brow quirked as he tugged his paw away.

"Give it a rest, Nick," the always surprisingly deep voice came before the smaller mammal took a sip of his beer, sharp eying the carrot pen with annoyance. "You've played that back forty-seven times since we sat down, fox. Did you bring me here to torture me or something?"

"Sorry," Nick said, though his tone came through just as sarcastic as the apology was. "I'm still trying to remember my life for the past three years. Did you want to talk about your feelings or something, Fin?"

"Fuck you, man," the smaller fox grumbled, taking another pull from the bottle before he reached up to set it on the bar-top. Nick watched as he turned in his stood to face him. Like himself – wearing his hustling outfit of khakis, a yellow shirt and striped tie to make himself seem harmless – Finnick was wearing the same old outfit; the black and red bowling shirt, shorts, and a scowl. All of which Nick was convinced he had dozens of stashed away in his van, including the scowl. "Look, you said the doc warned you that it could be months or even years before most of it came back. It's only been a few weeks. Ever think that sitting there listening to the same thing over and over again is messin' with your head?"

"Yes, because my head is in perfect order as it is," he snapped back, his ears falling flat as he turned his back on the bar and leaned back against it. Being in a bar wasn't really helping him. He couldn't even drink for at least another month, according to the good Doctor Staghorn. Not that he had ever been a heavy drinker, to begin with, but something to do other than staring at the bar would be nice. He shook his head with a sigh and raised one paw to rub his eyes. "Sorry, sorry. I'm not even supposed to be out here, you know. I was feeling like I was under house arrest. It's been three weeks, and all I have it this tiny memory, a box full of awards and pictures that belong to some fox that I don't even remember. And I'm living in the same house with a bunny who looks at me like she's hoping I'll just suddenly remember everything at any minute. That her partner would be back, and we could go back to playing cops and robbers when I feel like I _am_ the robber!"

"Yeah, it's gotta be real rough," he heard Finnick say with a slow sigh before Nick felt the surprisingly painful smack of a fist against his bicep that caused him to wince away. "I know you're not that stupid, fox. Yeah, three years is a long time, I get it. So what? Now you think the best move is to pick up a life you already left behind instead of trying to get the one you're missing back?"

He grunted slightly, looking down at the orange and green pen in his paw in silence for a few seconds before he shrugged slightly. "Nah. You've moved on, right? Not like I can find another grouchy old fox to dress up like a cutesy little baby to hustle lemmings out of a few bucks."

"Yeah. And you were real cute in your uniform up on stage, looking at that bunny like she was…"

Nick glanced back at him when the bat-ears fox paused, his brow creasing a bit as he tried to fill in the blanks himself while his friend took a drink while looking uncomfortable. Like she was… What? His friend? His partner? What else could she possibly be?

 _"Your relationship with Officer Wilde is unique," he heard the doctor say, in a voice that was obviously trying to soothe while remaining professional. Distant now, growing dim as the blackness started to cloud his eyes even when he forced them open. Relationship? He strained to focus, strained to hear more. "Imagine yourself in his place, seeing the world before you became partners. This has to be treated very delicately, or he may reject memories that he believes are impossible. Maybe even run from them."_

"Nick? Nick, you still with me in there?"

The sound of his friend's voice drew him back into the bar, and once there he realized that his paw was clenched so hard that he could feel the bite of his claws in his palm pad. He released the grip and shook his paw out a few times to ease the mild sting before he turned to lean against the bar again. Glancing over, he noticed the vixen at the other end of the bar giving him the once over. Then the twice over, as a little smile curved her attractive muzzle when she seemed to like what she saw.

"Yeah, I'm still with you," he muttered and giving the vixen a one over himself. Slender, pretty, smoothly groomed with just the right amount of fluff around her neck to make a male want to bury his nose in it and take a deep, deep breath. Her dress wasn't overly revealing, while still showing enough that he could see the cream color that blended with the shocking red when she crossed her legs. It wasn't soft gray or silky white. Her scent wouldn't be sweet enough to make his mouth water.

Why was he thinking _that_?

"You know, maybe you're right. I do need to relax. Have a little fun." That said he drew himself away from the bar and reached over to give Finnick a friendly pat on the shoulder. He tipped his muzzle towards the vixen, who was still eyeing him while she sipped at a fizzy pink drink with her narrow muzzle. "And she looks like she could be all kinds of fun."

"Nick, what?" the smaller fox said, sitting up straighter as those large ears dropped back fully and a look of near panic came over him. "That's… Nick, I'm not sure if that's a good idea, fox. Maybe you shouldn't be screwin' around. So soon after leaving the hospital, I mean."

"Clean bill of health, except what's up here," Nick said, and reached up to tap the side of his head even as he crossed the bar towards the vixen, who sat up a little straighter and put on a pretty smile just for him. Sliding in to lean against the bar beside her, he reached up to give the knot of his tie a little wiggle upward as he put on a thousand-watt grin. "And that's why I think you, my dear, may be exactly what I am looking for."

"Yeah?" she said, in a voice that was every bit as satiny as he had hoped it would be. He followed her muzzle with his eyes when she parted it, seeing just the pink tip of her tongue before she took a slow sip of her drink. A tease, but not an obvious one. He liked a lady with a little class, a little charm of her own. "And what exactly are you looking for?"

"Well," he said and leaned in a little closer to her. His grin grew a bit when she reached up with one paw and lightly toyed with the collar of his shirt. His nostrils flared just a bit as he took a slow and silent breath of her scent. Not too obvious, but obvious enough for her to lean into him as well. Charming dialog fled his mind when he realized that he had no reaction to the spice of her scent. No rise of excitement. None of the thrill of the chase, the anticipation of verbal sparring followed by a pleasant night pressed fur to fur and flesh to flesh with the beauty in front of him. Nothing. He felt nothing. He wasn't a fox who ran after every vixen he saw, but when one caught his eye he was always excited no matter the outcome. But everything that came to mind felt more like banter he would rehearse and deliver. An actor in a play, and one that wasn't even really into the part.

Even knowing that her eyes were on him, waiting for his reply, he licked his lips and tried again. Deep breath, inhale, savor, exhale. Faint perfume, the natural spice of subtle feminine musk. It wasn't sweet enough, wasn't earthy enough. It just… Wasn't enough. Something was _missing._

"I'm sorry," he said at last, and though she looked a bit crestfallen when he stood and drew away from her, she didn't seem overly angry. "I'm not myself right now. Maybe another time, beautiful."

Turning quickly, he made his way back over to Finnick and simply leaned against the bar as his friend took another drink of his beer. Staring down at the carrot pen that had found its way back into his paw, he pressed the button again.

 _Click_

 _"Of course I do, one-hundred percent."_

 **Day 22**

The morning sun was too damned bright when he stepped out of the cab, a little sway in his step. The zebra cabby grumbled a halfhearted thanks to the acceptable tip he had been given before he drove off. Nick gave a cheerful wave, a click of his tongue and a thumbs up before he wobbled his way towards the front door of the house. A door which was quickly swung open as he stumbled towards it, and he blinked against the light – which was still too damned bright – to see the bunny rushing towards him with a worried look on her face.

"Nick, where have you been?" she demanded and frowned when she stopped in front of him and gave him a once over. No doubt taking note of the fact that his tie was not actually tied, his shirt was half unbuttoned, and he may have unbuttoned his pants at some point so they hung low over his hips. His muzzle was split by a huge smile that showed a great many teeth when the inside of her ears went pinker just before they dropped back. "You're a mess. And you're drunk! Have you lost your mind?"

Even as drunk as he was, he could see the instant regret that came with the last part of her questioning. But he didn't care. She was adorable. Wearing faded jeans and a dark blue T-shirt that had ZPD in gold letters across the front and might have been more than a few sizes too big for her. Taking a step closer to her while managing not to wobble, he placed his paw on top of her head for a good fur ruffling before he stumbled past her and into the house.

"Obviously I've lost my mind, Officer Hopps," he said, and a bubble of laughter to escape him once he was through the front door. "A lot of it anyway. I just have to find it. Did you know… Oh, hello."

Having spun around to tell his grand revelation, he found himself closer to her than either of them had expected. Her muzzle almost touched his chest in fact, before she lifted her head to look up at him with a quickly twitching nose and a flush in her ears that were now high again. There was a subtle change in her scent almost immediately; one that had a mind confused by liquor and lack of memory to attach it to wasn't able to identify. A sweetness. Mild, earthy sweetness that had him lowering his muzzle towards her almost on instinct so he could maybe just… Get a better whiff.

Then the twitching nose of the bunny paused. He blinked in confusion when she reached out to snatch one tip of his collar, making him yelp slightly when she almost made him fall as she yanked him down and sniffed deeply at the fabric. He blinked at her when she let the paw slide away easily, looking down at her with only slightly watery vision. Or maybe it wasn't his vision that was watery: maybe it was the shimmer of tears in eyes that… Oh god, the agony in them made his head jerk back. Seeing her look at him as though he had betrayed her through a haze of tears burned through a great deal of his drunken stupor if only for a second.

"Judy, no no, don't c…" was about all he got out before he felt the slam of her tiny fist in his gut. Later he would give her credit for having the restraint not to slap him and jiggle his already mangled brain further. But at the moment all he could manage was not to fall over completely, dropping to his knees with one paw catching him to hold him upright as the other went to his roiling guts. The pain of the blow was minor, but the lack of breath and nausea it caused left him sitting there, only able to raise his head enough to watch her storm into her bedroom. She slammed the door with enough force that he heard something fall off the walls and shatter on the ground before he groaned and lowered his head to stop himself from losing what little there was in his stomach on the floor. As he struggled, his muzzle dipped close to his chest to center his vision, he detected a faint scent. A scent that his mind quickly decided was the reason for her violent reaction.

The lingering scent of the vixen.

 **Day 23**

That morning was the most frightening he could remember since being told that he was missing three years of his life.

After staying locked in her room for the entire day and subjecting him to the sound of on and off crying sessions – every one of which made him feel like a disgusting troll when he didn't even understand _why –_ she changed the routine that he had gotten used to over the last three weeks. She always woke him up before she left for work, just to make sure that he was all right. Doctor Staghorn had told them two weeks ago that it was fine now; that there was no reason to wake him because there was no longer a significant risk of clotting. But she had continued the familiar ritual, and he had never complained even when the night creature that he was wanted to.

But this morning, he woke around noon. Woke to a silence so complete that his mind could only come up with one explanation. The change was so sudden and painful that he listened to the absolute silence of the house for a long moment, certain that something had to be wrong. Something that had him dragging himself out of bed in his boxers and calling her name into the silence of the house. When his own voice was his only reply, he ran immediately to her bedroom and went inside without a thought as to why. He only felt the fear that she had left him.

She couldn't be gone. She wouldn't have just left without a word! They had to talk about it, fight it out, fucking yell and scream until their throat hurt and their muzzles ached but she couldn't just _leave him!_

" _Judy!"_

The sound of his own anguished cry reverberating through the small room sounded alien to his ears, and when his eyes met the eyes of the fox in the mirror… He didn't recognize them. The stark fear and desperation that shone back at him were nothing like the Nick Wilde he remembered. There was a need in those eyes, a need that even through his fear of losing the rabbit had him walking towards the mirror and staring at himself. The illusion lasted for only a few seconds, but for just a moment he had been looking at the same fox who had been so proud of the new badge that the bunny pinned to his chest. The same fox that had earned the commendations and medals. The _good_ fox that he had always wanted to be.

And a fox that was terrified that he would never see the sparkle of beautiful violet eyes again.

He took a calming breath when he realized he was looking at his own reflection, not some shadow of the past. Once he was able to tear his gaze away, he started to think. If she had left she would have packed clothes, and if she were leaving for good she would have taken all of them. Ears forced to stand erect, he stalked over to the closet and threw it open. Neatly hung clothes in her size were on one side, while the other side remained bare. Bare, but without empty hangers that may have indicated her taking anything. At the bottom of the closet, he saw empty suitcases; more of them than anyone bunny would need, but no space for one to be missing. He already knew that if he checked the bathroom that her toiletries would be there, toothbrush in place and freshly used, maybe a little soap dispenser by the sink, fur conditioner in the shower. Of course. She was at work. It was Tuesday, and she always worked Tuesday. She hadn't woken him up, and the change in pattern had confused him. But it was fine. Everything was fine.

With a sigh, he surrendered to the trembling of his muscles as the adrenaline wore off and sat on the edge of the bed, letting his head rest in his paws for a long moment as he breathed in and out deeply. Trying to make sense of the panic, wonder why in the hell he thought that she would have left her own house instead of just kicking the rotten to the core fox out. It wasn't like his memory was returning by being here. Obviously, the idea that staying with his partner would help his memory return wasn't panning out the way it was supposed to.

Drawing in a deep breath that was intended to be a calming sigh, he paused when he realized the scent he was breathing was…

 _Sweet. Earthy._

Turning to look at the sheets on the bed for a long moment as he drew in another breath, one paw stretched out to slide over the silky sheets. Cool silk met his pads as he smoothed his palm down…

 _…fur as soft as warm silk. Beautiful gray blending with white where her waist met her belly, writhing under him as he…_

... rolled onto the bed, bringing the edge of the sheets to his nose to draw in the scent of her. Not the same as when he smelled her from a distance when she was clean and in uniform. Or from across the table while they ate, or even in the car. This scent was…

 _...the warm and appealing musk of rabbit. The scent filling his every breath as he nibbled his way along her shoulder and up into the softly humming fur of her throat until he…_

…lost himself in the comfort that the scent brought him. He groaned into the sheets. The sound was not sexual, even if the memory that flickered through his mind was. The scent just made him so amazingly happy, calmed every nerve, made him want to wallow in it. How had he missed this? His…

... _lips brushing over hers lightly, softly smiling against them as green met lavender with a playfully loving sparkle as he pressed his nose against hers..._

Another short memory, but it was something. He focused on it again, repeated it over and over again in his mind. He didn't need to remember the scent of her, he realized. Or the feel of her fur under his paws. Or the taste of her on his tongue. All of that was a fact in his mind already, and the memory had simply awakened that reality. Just the visual, the sounds of her voice, the motions themselves as they had writhed together on this very bed. No sexual pleasure came from it the memories; just the thrill and the pain of remembering as he hugged her pillow close to him and wondered how long it had lasted. How long as she been his lover? When he had it ended?

She would have told him if they were still lovers after all. There was no sign of it in the house, nothing of his that was outside of the box. No pictures of them together out of uniform, no scent of him in the bed except for what he left there now. He must have done something to end it. Something stupid, something that only a fox foolish enough to come home smelling like a vixen could have done. Maybe someday he would remember and would be able to apologize for; then there would be a chance to make amends and get the same warmth and happiness he had felt in the memory back into his life. For now, curled up on her bed with her pillow hugged close to his chest and his nose buried in the scent of her, he understood why he had not been interested in the vixen at the bar:

He was in love with Judith Hopps.

 **Day 30**

She made an art form of avoiding him. If his life were normal, it might have been impressive and praiseworthy. She was always gone before he woke up, always managed to slip into the house late when he wasn't looking. Not that he waited up for her, not that he stood by the window and wondered why her shifts were twice as long now; wondered why she never left her room or joined him for meals anymore. They weren't in a relationship now, of that much he was certain. He had looked through the box again, paid extra close attention to every picture on her wall, checked drawers, dressers. He was beyond feeling bad enough rummaging through her house, mostly because he just needed to know the truth, and partly because he was sure that she had to know about it by now. There was no way she had not noticed his scent in her bed, yet she had said nothing. Simply remained locked away, silent aside from the occasional shuffle of paws across carpet or the sound of her shower running.

He tried to wait her out. He even left her little notes on the door, inside and out, telling her that he wanted to talk to her. But they remained unanswered. And every day that he was ignored, his heart sank a little lower. And every dip in his chest was followed by anger. _He_ was the one who couldn't remember anything beyond random flashes of memory that were too damned short to be helpful. _He_ was the one who's head had been bashed in for a job that he couldn't even remember so that he was forced to live with a damned rabbit that didn't want anything to do with him!

He thought of leaving, going home, but couldn't even find his home address because it always pointed back to her. Which confused him further, and the confusion only made him angry all over again. What kind of game did she think she was playing with him, anyway? So he'd smelled like a vixen, so what? He hadn't even done anything with her, and even if he had spent the night with her in some seedy hotel just to slow off some steam and finally have some fucking relaxation in his life, so what? They obviously weren't anything anymore, if they ever had been. He had not dismissed the possibility that it had been a one-time thing for her, a quick roll with a fox just to find out what it was like.

Which brought him back to being confused, _again,_ because if that was the case why was she so angry?

He heard the shower turn off, again. For the past seven days, he had heard that sound, waited quietly in front of the TV in the hopes that she would come out and maybe even glance in his direction to show that she gave even a little bit a damn about him. Nothing. Again. Just a few silent footfalls, the sound of her crawling into bed, and then nothing again. His paw tightened on the carrot pen he held until he felt the plastic start to groan in protest, a paw that shook when he relaxed his grip enough to slide it into his pocket as he stood.

He considered doing a lot of things. A lot of them were stupid ideas, and he knew it. The first to come and easiest to dismiss was the fleeting idea to go out and find a vixen, take her to bed and give the damned rabbit something to be mad about at least. And after nearly punching himself for the thought, which he knew was just mean and spiteful, he pushed aside ideas of finding Finnick again to vent on, calling his mother, just going for a walk, and calling the ZPD to get his home address so he could leave. All of the thoughts fluttered away when he realized that he was standing at her door with one paw raised, and before he could gain control of the rage of confused pain that had brought him here, he pounded it into the door three times quickly.

"Judy, we need to talk, damn it!" He didn't even try to keep his tone even, knowing that it was far too late for her not to see that she was getting to him.

"Just go away, Nick," came the reply, and as angry as he was it still caused a needle of pain to hear it. It didn't sound angry. It sounded distant, pained and resigned.

Hearing the spirited Officer Hopps use such a tone pissed him right the fuck off.

Not even sure what the anger was directed at, it surged through him so intensely that it caused his fur to bristle and his lips to draw back from his teeth. The next thing he knew, he had planted his foot in the door with enough force to break the frame and sent the door exploding inward. He wasn't sure who was more stunned by the action in that moment; the slack-jawed bunny sitting in the bed - looking far too appealing in the pink spaghetti strap nighty and blue underwear, which were perfectly visible since she wore nothing else below the waist – or himself. He had just kicked her damned door in like some madman! What was _wrong_ with him?

Even that thought didn't stop him from storming across the room towards her, watching as the shock melted from her face and began anger of her own. Instead of backing down, she stood where she was on the bed, which put them very close to eye level when he stopped beside the bed.

"Look what you did to the door! Have you lost your mind, Nicholas Wilde?" she demanded, her voice raised as she jabbed her finger into his chest with enough force to make him rock back.

"If you keep asking that question, Hopps, it's only going to piss me off even more," he said, his ears pinned back as he fixed green eyes on her burning amethyst. He poked her in the chest in turn, which made her eyes narrow on him. "I haven't seen you for seven days! You haven't said a word to me, haven't even bothered to acknowledge my notes or the fact that even exist in this house other than to make damned sure that I never lay eyes on you! For all you know, I could remember everything and you wouldn't even know, _partner!"_

Her eyes remained narrowed, and even as angry as he was he saw the flare of her nostrils when she slapped his paw away. "Have you?" she demanded, though something in her tone told him that she already knew the answer.

"Well, no…"

"Of course you haven't!" she cut him off with a scream that made his ears ache. He saw the tears in her eyes as clearly as he heard them in her voice just before they spilled over. "Because if you remembered anything, you wouldn't have fucked some vixen while I sat here worried half to death about you, _partner!"_

"That never happened!" he shouted back and had the satisfaction of seeing her next reply deflate in a rush of breath even as the tears trickled through the gray fur of her cheeks. He resisted the urge to reach forward and brush them away. A surprisingly easy thing to do, considering the anger that still bubbled through him. "And even if it did, what does it matter to you? We're not dating, right? There's nothing in this house to indicate it, and _you_ certainly haven't given me any sign otherwise. I mean, there would be something, wouldn't…"

Stopping when she wrapped her arms around her stomach and looked away, he stared at her for a long moment as some realizations struck at the same moment. First, the room still smelled like him. Not the fresh scent that had followed him into the room, but the lingering musk that he had left all over her bed. All over the sheets and the pillows that he had very literally wallowed in. The sheets that were still on the bed, the pillow that she had been leaning against, the blanket she covered herself in at night when she slept. There was no way she wasn't aware of it.

"Judy, why haven't you asked me to leave?" he asked numbly, ears perking towards her as he raised his eyes from the stray strands of orange fur he saw on the sheets. She refused to meet his gaze.

"I don't want you to leave, Nick," she said, her voice quiet and resigned as she turned and sat in the center of the bed. He felt a little hitch in his chest, then a knock as his heart rate increased when she dragged the pillow close to her chest and hugged it there. He knew he had marked the pillow, that the scent wouldn't fade for a good long while. And she squeezed it close when she finally met his gaze. "I told you to stay until you had your memory back, and I…"

"No, not the house," he cut her off with an impatient wave of his paw. He pointed at the ground under his feet with both forefingers. "Here. Your bedroom. You haven't told me to leave, even though you're half naked and I'm a _fox._ A fox in a bunny's bedroom. And all you think to say when you see me charging towards you in a fury is 'Look what you did to the door'?"

"Nick," she began, then paused as he watched her swallowed thickly. She sniffled once and shook her head when she buried her face into the pillow.

"Don't," he all but growled as he climbed onto the bed on all fours and closed the distance between them. It touched and shocked him down to his core that she didn't look in the least bit afraid as he came over her, stripped the pillow away to take her wrists in his paws. If anything, those wide eyes looking up at him with a sadness and a craving. A craving that sharpened when he shoved her back into the mattress and pinned her body under his. He wasn't even shy about it, for God's sake. He was pressed full length into her, his muzzle only slightly more than an inch from hers as he felt the heat of her nearly naked body soaking through his clothes and into his fur until he felt a twitch in his sheath that came with the rise of arousal. "Don't lie to me. Why aren't you screaming for help, or even trying to stop me? Why did that vixen smell so wrong to me that I couldn't even find her attractive, but I wallowed in your scent and this bed for half a day because it made me feel happy? Why does this, all of this right now, feel right? Why do I feel like I _belong here_?"

"Because you do," she replied in a voice that was so soft that he could hardly make out the words. Not that the words mattered much anymore when she angled her muzzle up and pressed her mouth to his.

The warmth of the touch drained the strength from him, and his fingers relaxed around her wrists until she pulled the free. Rather than try to push him away, she wrapped her arms around his neck to drag him deeper into the kiss with an eagerness that spoke volumes about how much she wanted it. All he could taste was bunny, and in those first few seconds of the kiss, he knew why the vixen would never have measured up. She was so sweet, like nothing he had experienced before. Subtle flavors exciting something primal in him when he parted his muzzle, deepening the kiss with a touch of his tongue against her smaller one in a slick dance that had his paws bunching into the sheets. He felt as if he had done this a thousand times, and he knew how to kiss her until she whimpered a sigh into his mouth with a needy little squirm. He felt her thighs rise up to slide over his hip. But just because it felt perfect and naturally didn't change the fact that it was new to him; and overwhelming; and powerful. A shudder rolled through him as he moaned into her muzzle, which seemed to be enough to snap her out of whatever daze they were both locked in long enough to pull her mouth away from his.

"Oh God, Nick," she said after a moment. A moment during which they had both been breathing deeply, staring at each other. Him staring at her with open surprise, and her looking at him with longing and regret. "You don't even remember, do you? I'm sorr… Mmph!"

Silencing her was, for once, a very pleasant experience when he brought his muzzle down to hers again, this time taking her mouth with his own sense of urgency. It was satisfying when surprise didn't even have time to register for her before she was moaning into his mouth again, amethyst eyes fluttering closed as they skipped the soft and warm and dove straight into the heated and desperate. A desperation that he hadn't even known he had in him until he felt the sweep of her tongue over his, and the pull of her claws at the back of his shirt. She didn't even bother with the buttons, and he didn't try to correct her as he sat up and broke the kiss just along enough to slip his head and arms out. He even managed a little breathless laugh when his tie stayed around his neck and she grabbed it to yank him back down into the welcoming embrace of her lips again.

It was a glorious feeling. Uncertainty, fear, and disbelief were all gone as he feasted on the taste of her mouth and knew that she was doing the same. He didn't question the way her body rose to him when he took his turn, sliding his paws up and over the smooth plain of her belly and the curve of her chest, the nightgown flowing up as his paws moved. They broke the kiss again as she raised her arms when he slipped the silky pink over her head. With the removal of that single barrier, her scent bloomed around him: those sweet hints of bunny that had so tantalized and soothed him now surrounded him, filled his next breath with something that tickled the edges of his memory.

"Nick," she breathed out, her voice so thick with a desire that it only made him want to make her moan some more. But to his surprise she was gently but firmly tugging his ears to move him back, so move him away. "No, no. Nick, we can't. Please."

He didn't want it to stop. It all felt so good, a relief from the pain and confusion of the last month. But more than that, even though it was new and strange, it felt so right. He wanted to find the source of that alluring scent and bury his muzzle their until she surrendered to the same need that he felt. He wanted her to _want_ him, just as he wanted her.

It was when she turned her eyes to him and he saw the same passion he felt reflected in them, the same need to go on that he was able to relent and raise his muzzle. She did want him, a want that he felt in the touch of her trembling paws as she slid them both down either side of his muzzle to draw him close to her. Not to kiss this time. Just pulled him close and wrapped her arms around his bare shoulders with her muzzle pressed into the side of his neck. Panting lightly, trying to ease back from the need that had caused his heart to slam against his chest and his groin to throb, he almost tentatively wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice an odd combination of misery and contentment. A feeling that he understood completely as he gently rooted through the fur of her throat with the tip of his nose. Exploring her, because it was… So strange. He knew what to do, and when he had been lost in need he had just done it. Followed his desires, and known how to pull their mutual desire to the next level. Now that he was thinking about it, he only knew this body from random flashes of memory; sparse memories that made even the slide of his paw down the back of her neck unexplored territory.

"Don't be," he whispered in reply when his muzzle found the rim of her ear. He kissed it, just a light graze of his lips over the gray fur. Not to tease, though he did feel the little shiver slide through her, but because he was curious. "I don't even know… Who am I to you, Judy? What are we to each other?"

"You need to remember that yourself," she whispered in a suddenly drowsy voice. He felt her paws sliding down his shoulders, dig into his fur as they moved up and down his back in a slow and sleepy caress. He wondered for a moment if she had been sleeping as poorly as he had. Or had she been sleeping less? "It's important. We can't push this. Please be patient."

A laugh almost wanted to come, but it came out as a sigh that was half disappointment and half frustration. Still, he gave her a light nod and a gentle nuzzle to her cheek that had a small smile climbing her lips again before he started to draw away from her. He found himself stopped when her arms tightened around him, her muzzle pressing into his neck and her lips into his fur.

"Please stay."

Soft and pleading, the whispered words brought with them a strange relief even though he knew the invitation wasn't meant as an offer to continue what had almost been. Maybe not so strange, really, he realized when he lifted his head to look down into her eyes. Eyes that were warm and welcoming, hopeful and just a little bit desperate. And because he was almost certain that the same look was reflected back to her this time, he gave his answer.

"All right."

Rolling over onto his side in the middle of the bed and tucking the pillow under his head, he left his arms open to her as she curled herself against him. Her smaller body molding to his, matching her curves to the length of his longer body with the experience of someone who was familiar with where she wanted to be. He felt the heat when she tucked her nuzzle into the thick fur of his chest ruff, sucking in a deep breath that she released with a sound that was still filled with as much longing as it was content relaxation. He let his paw up and down her arm lightly, letting his claws trace the pattern of her fur as they just stayed there in silence for long minutes.

"So, you really didn't do anything with that vixen?" came her hopeful voice again, drawing a small laugh from him as he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her close for the rest of the night.

 **Day 36**

Easy wasn't a word he would use to describe their situation.

Better, maybe?

He still remembered very little, though he had gained his first memories of actually being a police officer. A trip down to the ZPD, to meet (again) some his fellow officers. His idea, actually; one that she supported wholeheartedly. He had admitted to her that it felt strange on the drive home, the nervousness not entirely based on the fact that he had been meeting co-workers he didn't remember. He was still Nick the street hustler in his own mind, only a little over a month out of the gate and three years behind the times. There was the nervousness of a less than honest fox. "Because if I ever did do anything illegal, which I never have, it might come back to haunt me," he had explained to her. A statement which had drawn a bittersweet little smile up at the corners of her muzzle that confused him until she explained that he had said almost the same thing during the Night Howler investigation.

 _"You know, I think you'd actually make a pretty good cop," she quipped as she leaned back and folded her arms, her tone not entirely playful._

 _His gaze flicked over her, trying to judge how serious the still adorable bunny was for a fraction of a second. The feeling of affection that was growing for her, the same affection that had made him all but forget about the carrot pen, made him want to believe her. But the moment was brief, and he gave a little scoff._

 _"Huh. How dare you."_

 _"Funny you should say that." She was standing in front of him in the ornate and sunny lobby now, looking a little nervous as she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He watched her with mild curiosity when she started to unfold it as she continued. "Because, well… I've been thinking. It would be nice to have a partner."_

The surprise had been so warm, so deep that he felt it all over again as if for the first time. He ran his fingers together as they drove in silence, almost able to feel the paper against his pads. And he felt the pleasure, even as a part of his mind had told him that the bunny was obviously insane to think that he belonged in that uniform. But she had believed in him, had offered trust and reached out a paw that no one ever had before. The pictures on the wall, the medals and commendations in his name, the friendly faces of the officers who had all welcomed him and shaken his paw with real pleasure to see him on his feet? All of that was because of one moment of trust. Because one rabbit had convinced him that he was more than he had let himself believe.

After asking her to pull over, ignoring her concerned expression, he had unbuckled her seatbelt and dragged her fully across the seats until she was in his lap. She let herself be held without complaint and held him in return with her tiny paws sliding over the back of his shirt when he shared the memories with her.

 **Day 39**

That morning's routine of tease and denial had led him to an interesting change of pace. After she'd managed to slip out the door, leaving him feeling the emptiness of the house all over again for the first few minutes, he realized that she'd left her cell phone on the side table. Being the honest fox that he was (supposed to be) he considered just leaving it alone for a whole thirty minutes while had breakfast. After that, his willpower was gone and he found himself sitting on the couch in the living room with the phone in one paw. He wanted to feel guilty, wanted to feel like he was invading her privacy, but the fact that he wanted answers that she was unwilling to give urged him on as he swiped the pad of his finger across the screen to bring up the cOS.

Pleased that she didn't have any sort of password, he tapped his way through various screens curiously. Phone numbers were standard, not that he expected she had any torrid affairs to hide from him. He was a little surprised to see his mother's numbers among the recent calls, a few times over the past two days. Her parents, calls from the ZPD, an outgoing call to a number he recognized as Finnick. This didn't surprise him. He had already guessed that the bat-ears fox was in on the whole 'Don't tell Nick everything' scam he was currently living with. He bypassed the random apps until he came up on the Files Folder, and dug through it until he found the photos folders.

And there they were. Him and her, everywhere. A pic of him just walking out of the ZPD in full uniform; sleeves rolled up, paws shoved in his pockets with aviator sunglasses in place against the same bright sun the glinted off his badge. The next was a picture of him taking a bite of a doughnut in the cruiser. The next one was a picture of him with a young fox riding on his shoulders in the park, little arms outstretched towards a vixen with a look of relief on her face. Another shot of him trying desperately not to spill his coffee, and another of him walking back towards the ZPD entrance. He realized what they were when he flipped back through the pics and looked at the dates, counted back to what he found to be his hire date.

It was his first day on the job.

 _"Hey, partner. Smile!"_

 _"Oh come on, Carrots. This is just silly. How many of these are you going to take?"_

 _"These may be important someday! It's history in the making. First fox on the ZPD, first day on the job. When you're old and grouchy, sitting in a rocking chair surrounded by grandkits and reliving stories of your youth, you'll be glad I took these."_

 _"Fine fine. Just be sure you get my handsome side."_

 _"Every side is handsome."_

 _"What was that?"_

 _"Nothing! Smile!"_

He heard her little comment but had pretended not to. Just like he had pretended that it hadn't caused his heart to skip in his chest. He'd had such a crush on her. More than a crush. He had been crazy about her. The bright and cheerful energy that she presented to the world, to the sly sarcasm that she wielded with at least as much skill as he did. From the first day he'd come back from the academy, he'd been in love with her.

But cop or not, he was a fox and she was a bunny.

The memories of those first few days on the force came back like a splash of water to the face. Everything from his graduation, his first morning on the job…

 _"You know you love me."_

 _"Do I know that? Yes… Yes, I do."_

…to the days that followed it. Weeks. He almost, for one blinding moment as he looked down the picture of himself walking back towards the ZPD entrance, though it might all just come rushing back. But like turning off a faucet, the flood slowed and abated. He wasn't even sure exactly what he had now, how much. It wasn't like everything had just flashed into his mind, but now some of the pictures he flipped through were familiar.

Benjamin! He remembered Benjamin and his insane food obsession! And Wolford, and Delgato, and Fangmeyer! And the Chief, with his sharp if dry wit with threats of parking duty. And for the first time, he admitted to himself, he really believed it. These were no longer just someone else's memories that he had to convince himself were true. He didn't have to take anyone else's word for it.

"Oh my god," he whispered as he stared down at the phone clutched in his paw. "I'm a _cop!"_

The delighted sound that escaped him was a half laugh and half sob as he continued to flip through the photos eagerly now. There were a lot more selfies now, with their faces pressed together, or just her snapping pictures of random things in Zootopia. Some pictures from the Gazelle concert they had gone to together. Some pictures from Bunnyburrow, where the first picture she had was of him being surrounded by young bunnies; and the next one where he was indulgently letting them climb all over him while her parents watched patiently from the background. No more memories surfaced as he did, no matter how many pictures surfaced, but it didn't matter really. He had something now that he had lacked before, and…

He paused as he flipped through to the next set of pictures, pausing as he realized that the date was wrong. Turning back a few to the ones from BunnyBurrow, noted the date stamp to be a few months after he had joined the force. Then when he flipped back, all of them were from a year after that. The time skip made him watch the dates more closely as he continued, noting that it happened a few more times. First the full year, then months would vanish after that. It caused a frown to curve his muzzle as he paused on a photo of her that he had taken. He knew he had taken it because he could see part of his paw in the shot, stretched out towards her. Something about the picture was different, he knew. He couldn't place it, couldn't find it no matter how long he looked. And the memories that came with it remained a mystery to him until he finally closed the folder and let the phone drop into his lap.

With what he had now, he wanted to talk to Judy. Wanted to share everything he did remember, and almost went in search of the phone before he realized that her phone was in his lap. A little laugh and a roll of his eyes later, and he reached for the remote to the TV instead. Just some background noise. Maybe a music channel to listen to while he leaned back and sorted through the memories. He turned it on and found himself staring that the scene on the TV.

Flashing lights and at least half a dozen ZPD cruisers gathered around the downtown area in the aerial view provided by the news network. The droning voice of the newscaster promised more information as it became available, even as the sounds of more gunfire rang out over the air. The text scrolling below in large white letters with the ZNN logo in the corner read:

"Shootout at Zootopia Central Bank and Trust. Two gun mammals confirmed. Causalities reported as two ZPD Officers and one civilian airlifted to the area hospital. No reports on condition."

He heard the words 'hostages' and 'negotiations' immediately after he turned the volume up to hear the rest of the report, but they had nothing else on the officers injured. Feeling a sickening clutch in his belly and panic surging through him, he stood so quickly that her phone went skidding across the floor as he ran into the bedroom to grab his own new, almost completely unused phone. Dialing the direct number to the front desk with trembling paws, he placed it to his ear as he turned his wide eyes back to the screen. Hoping that somewhere in the chaos below he would see the tiny bunny in a blue uniform assisting, but unhurt. He listened to the call ring. And ring. And ring. He slammed his finger down on the End Call button so hard it almost cracked the screen before he dialed again.

And again.

And again.

"No no no," he muttered to himself over and over, pacing the room with ears pinned to the back of his head when no sign of his partner was seen in the mass of ZPD cruisers. "Pick up the phone! Damn it, Benjamin!"

Finally, he heard the click of the call connecting, and the weary-sounding, "ZPD, Clawhauser speaking."

"Benjamin!" he said instantly, pressing his paw to one eye to wipe at the gritty feeling forming. "Where is Judy?"

"Nick? Nick, this isn't a good time," came the hesitant voice of the cheetah, with a reply that only had Nick's anger rising.

"Clawhauser, where is my partner _?"_ he demanded again, his paw tightening around the phone so hard that he felt the ache in his pads and heard the creak of the case.

"I'm not really sure, Nick," came the reply again, just as hesitant as before. He wasn't technically a cop right now, wasn't her partner. Was _there_ when she might need him. Next of kin only. That was who could ask for information on officers in the field during a crisis like this. "I can have her call you as soon as I get word from her."

Rage and desperate surged together.

" _God damn it, Clawhauser, where is my wife!"_ he screamed.

The only sound that followed for a long moment was the sound of his own panting gasps and the roar of his heartbeat in his ears. The silence was thick, and it took him a moment to realize that the silence was all his. He wasn't hearing anything, wasn't seeing anything but the word that rang through his mind like a bell. It wasn't until he realized that someone was speaking on the other end of the line that he focused in, the throaty rumble of Chief Bogo coming through over the dispatch radio.

"Hopps was taken to Downtown General, along with Delgato," he said over the sounds of shouting, including his own. "Keep those reporters back! I don't want these…"

There may have been more coming from either Bogo or Clawhauser, but Nick wasn't aware it. He had already ended the call and was making another as he looked around for her phone again. That picture. The one that had looked strange to him, had looked off.

Wife.

"Hey, fox," came Finnick's gruff voice on the other end as he spotted her phone on the other side of the room and all but dove for it.

His wife.

 _"Do you, Nicholas Wilde…"_

"I need a ride downtown. Now," he said quickly, as he navigated his way to the picture folder again and scrolled to the more recent pool. "Judy's in the hospital."

 _"…take this bunny to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and told hold…"_

"Whoa whoa, what?" came the startled reply, the fox on the other end now clearly paying full attention. "When?"

"… _in sickness and in health…"_

"Please, just hurry. I'm…"

"… _for as long as you both shall live?"_

His voice drifted off when he found the picture again and stared at the image once he opened it. It was blindingly obvious, now that he understood. The glint of gold from the wedding band almost buried in the red fur of the hand he was holding out towards her.

 _"Of course I do, one hundred percent."_

"I'm home."

 **Home**

He ran through the double sliding doors of the emergency room at full tilt after what had been the longest drive of his life. That he could remember, anyway. Making a b-line for the reception desk, which was currently manned by an alpaca duty nurse who looked bored and uninterested in everything around her, he took a flying leap that put him on top of the desk in front of her. She merely turned that bored gaze towards him and rose one eyebrow.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"A ZPD officer... _Two_ officers were brought in with injuries," he said quickly, his ears flat as he turned his gaze to look around the packed ER. There were animals of all shapes and sized inside, making it impossible for him to single anyone or to try to pick up the scent of rabbit in the myriad of scents. "Judith Hopps was one of them. Is there any word? Is there a doctor I can talk to?"

"Sir, unless you're a relative or an officer yourself," she drawled, that uninterested tone making him want to bite her. "You're going to have to go to the waiting room."

"I'm her husband!" he shouted in a near growl, his paws clenched at his sides as he tried to keep his lips from curling. The last thing he needed was to be escorted out for bearing his teeth.

"Nick?" came the soft voice behind him, making him whirl around to see the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in his life.

The little bunny stood there in her blue uniform with the blue knife-vest and the shiny badge on her chest. Her arm was in a sling, but she was standing under her own power, walking towards him without a limp or any sign that her life was in danger. Her eyes were a little wide when she looked at him now, and in the relief that flooded him, he didn't even notice the hopeful tears in her own as he jumped down from the desk and ran over to her.

"Carrots!" He all but prayed the pet-name as he dropped to his knees in front of her, dragging her close so he could drop his muzzle into her neck and just hold her. The scent of gun smoke and blood that wasn't hers lingered on her fur and made him frown as he pulled back to look down at her. Had he missed an injury? "Are you alright? I saw… I thought…"

"I'm fine," she assured him softly, and now that he was paying a little more attention, he realized that he could hear the tremor in her voice and a see a shimmer of tears in her eyes. "Delgato was hit, and when I tried to pull him out of the way he fell on top of me. Sort of a sad way to get injured, all things considered. You said…"

"Husband, right," he said and tilted his muzzle into her paw when she reached up with her good arm to slide her fingers through his fur. He gave a little laugh as he pulled her close to him again, closing his eyes as he felt her cling to him. "Yeah, I remember that now. Unless we've gotten a divorce since that memory. In which case, get ready to have me beg. Because I will beg. I will plead and do anything I need to do to fix it if that's true."

"Of course we're not divorced, dumb fox," she said with a watery laugh as he felt a few tears wet the fur of his neck. "The doctor thought that, with what you do remember – where your memories of me began – that with you being a fox and me being a bunny, you might willingly reject the idea that we're married, which would have… Could have… Oh, Nick. I'm sorry."

When a few tears became many, and he felt her tiny paw grip the back of his shirt as she burrowed into him, he squeezed her a little tighter while being careful of her arm.

"It's a relief, you know," he mumbled into her fur as he kissed the fur between her ears.

"That we're married?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder as he ran his fingers down the length of her ears slowly. He heard the sigh of contentment leave her and smiled slowly.

"Of course it is," he said, resting his muzzle between her ears as he opened his eyes and looked out while seeing nothing but the little pieces of the past that he did remember. "I still don't remember much. I don't remember falling in love, or dating, or asking you to marry me. Or you asking me because you are an aggressive little bunny when you want something."

She raised her head as he looked down at her, close enough that their muzzles were almost touching. He could see the worry in her eyes, eyes that were so damned beautiful and bright and full of love. "Nick…"

"I'm relieved because, even though I don't remember these things," he said, letting his claws slide through her ears in a way that distracted her from just about everything. He knew it somehow, and it proved true with a little shudder raced through her as he grinned softly. "I've known for a while how I feel about you. And this way, I don't have to go through the process of charming you with witty remarks, roguish good looks and sultry looks across the dining room table."

This drew a snort of laughter from her before she pressed her mouth to his briefly. "All of those things are still greatly appreciated, you know."

"Hm," he breathed and dipped his muzzle for another sort kiss. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind. How's Delgato, by the way?"

"They say he'll recover," she said, gently disengaging herself from him. He was fully aware that they were in the middle of a very crowded waiting room, and that he was a fox snuggled up to a bunny. The number of odd looks that they were drawing gave him the childish desire to stick his tongue out at the lot of them. But he just settled for letting her draw him towards a pair of chairs against the far wall. "The bullet passed through his hip, so it will be a while before he's back on his feet. But he'll get there."

"That's good," he said, drawing her close to his side as they sat together. "And how are we doing?"

"Better," came her tired, but content reply. He watched her eyes slide closed as she turned her face into his shirt and breathed in deeply. "It might still be a while before we get back on our feet, but we'll get there."

"Yeah," he replied, and smiled down at her a little sadly as he considered the small range of what he had remembered in the past month. The short peaks into what had been years of his life; years of a life that he still couldn't really grasp as his in a lot of ways. "I'm still only getting random memories, Carrots. What if I don't get it all back? I mean, I know how I feel. I remember marrying you, and I don't want anything more than to make sure that doesn't change. But I don't remember our first date, or out first kiss, or when we told each other our feelings and who did it first. What if I never really remember _us_?"

"But you do know how you feel now?" she asked him quietly, squeezing his hand gently to hold his attention.

"Oh, yes," he said easily, watching the slow and warm smile spread over her lips when he continued. "I love you, Carrots. Which is saying a lot, because my most vivid memory of you is desperately wanting to ditch you after the Naturalist's Club."

"Oh, how boring our lives would have turned out to be if you had managed that," she whispered, and he lowered his muzzle into her paws when she cupped it to draw him closer. "I love you, too. And now even if you never remember what we were before, you'll remember this as the first time you told me and I answered. We'll make two new memories for everyone that doesn't come back, Nick. We'll rebuild it all if we have to. If memories make the fox, then I am going to make sure that you are the most loved fox who ever lived."

His eyes softened, his expression warmed as he looked down at her and she smiled up at him. Cupping her face in his larger paws, he touched his nose to hers lightly. "And I'll make sure that you're the most loved bunny who ever lived."

"Already there, Slick," she whispered, and touched her soft lips to his just long enough for him to feel her contented sigh escape against his cheek fur. "Already there."


	2. Chapter 2

**One Hundred Percent Two: Remembering…**

 **How well she knows**

Lying on the couch this late at night wasn't exactly productive, but he wasn't feeling particularly productive today. Not that he had been particularly productive for the past two months. Even knowing that it was more than understandable and had been advised by his doctor that he not try to force himself to work as anything other than a police officer did not remove that feeling of being useless. From the age of twelve, he had worked his first hustle and hadn't stopped moving from that point forward. Some might not have called it work but some people didn't understand the planning involved, or the legwork needed. The struggle to keep things legal even if not entirely unethical while jumping from one part of Zootopia to the other on a very tight schedule, requiring that the freshly frozen merchandise be waiting and on display at exactly

And that was just for the pawpsicle hustle.

The thought of moving back into hustling had occurred to him more than once. Not flighty moments that came and went in the blink of an eye. Serious consideration. Thoughts of how much easier it would be to just slip back into making two hundred bucks a day, at least so he wouldn't feel like such a burden, were not easy to dismiss. He remembered certain parts of being an officer at the ZPD, but not all of it. Not enough to make him feel it. His damaged mind kept trying to tell him that nothing had changed, that he was still just a sly fox and he should be doing what sly foxes did because no one would see him differently anyway. It was where he belonged, right?

These thoughts – which had returned despite the best efforts of the rambunctious zebra trying too hard to tell old jokes as new ones – were cut off by the sound of the front door opening, the steps of light paws moving across the tile floor, and then the warm and welcome scent of bunny. Without sitting up, he turned his head to see Officer Hopps looking down at him with a slight smile on her muzzle. Dressed in the same custom made blue uniform, which he decided someone must have designed with his libido in mind, she leaned over the arm of the couch towards him without a word. Rolling fully onto his back, he greeting the motion by tilting his muzzle towards hers until their lips met in an upside-down kiss that sent warmth rolling all through him.

Had he been thinking about going back to hustling? Because that idea was stupid, and never going to happen. Not only because he knew it would disappoint this bunny who believed in him so much, but because he would just be proving that he wasn't good enough for her. Little doubts and fears about what he had been before he met her flittered away when the light kiss broke and she looked down at him with sparkling amethyst eyes.

"Welcome home," he murmured, sliding his fingers up either side of her cheeks until he could scratch at the base of her ears with gentle claws. He grinned at the little hum of approval that escaped her, her head lowering again to give him easier access as those ears dropped back. This allowed him to raise his head just an inch or two before he caught her lips with his again.

It was so easy to sink into it. The sweet, earthy fragrance of her own personal scent; a scent that was permanently mingled with his own now, burned into his memory all over again. Every breath he drew was laced with it as she tipped her muzzle so that their lips melded to one another seamlessly for a moment before parting to deepen the kiss. The taste of her was just as delightful and so unlike anything he had known. That it still surprised him when her small tongue darted out to tease his lips apart was mostly because his memories were still broken and spotted. He still had no clear memory of how they had progressed to this point; how they had gone from a fox and a bunny that could hardly stand each other to partners to lovers and then to husband and life. It made it intense in a way, the surprise that always managed to seep in with each deep kiss. A surprise that enhanced the flavor of her and made some part of him just had to wonder if she tasted so damned good _because_ he was a fox and she was a bunny.

More surprising might have been the fact that the predator and prey aspect of their relationship wasn't something that she shied away from. Quite the contrary he often found. Like now, when the parting of his lips so that he could lightly touch just the tip of his tongue to hers was met with a little moan from her. Not just because of his tongue, but because during the duel between the two her own pink muscle slid over the tips of his canines – one after the other in deliberate little licks – with a lusty little flare that made his blood run hot. He knew she could feel the quickening of his heart when she placed her paw on his chest to crawl over the arm of the couch. She didn't even bother to turn to face the same direction as his, instead opting to curl herself around his head without breaking the upside-down kiss.

And that was where they both became very careful, as she settled into the kiss and he was surrounded by the warmth of her body and the scent of his mate. He slipped one paw gently under her arm, the one that was still in a sling more-often-than-not, lifting it until she could carefully slide her arm free and curve it under his muzzle to rest against his shoulder. She seemed determined not to separate their mouths, however, so the sling was left to hang from her shoulder even as she parted her mouth a bit further and pressed herself into him. It was his turn to release a little moan when she demanded more of the kiss; her tongue eager, searching, firmly sliding over his as her fingers digging into the front of his shirt. Her need and urgency grew as she let herself get lost in the kiss.

It was the opposite for him. He was so much larger than her. His muzzle was broader and his tongue longer and his teeth sharper. As his paws felt to her hips, he felt how easily his fingers could swallow her body and he gentled his touch more than he needed to. He kept his claws from touching her, kept his teeth from grazing her lips. As she became ravenous, he tried to control every aspect of himself. He couldn't let himself hurt her, and he didn't know how to do this anymore. How had they ever? How did a fox make love to a bunny without causing her pain or frightening her? How did he control himself enough to keep from hurting her when the passion already had him wanting to roll her under him and claim her without restraint?

Even knowing it was happening, he couldn't stop it. The tension that filled him as he tried to overcompensate for his passion, tried to keep his claws away from a body that arched into them longingly, tried to soften the kiss when she only seemed interested in deepening it. A touch of panic came when he realized that she was still hurt, which only made the panic rise more quickly until he was dragging his muzzle away from hers.

He heard the little groan from her, a groan that he knew was a result of the arousal that had thickened her scent around him being denied. Again. This wasn't the first time, and like the other times, he regretted it. Regretted it, didn't fully understand it, but couldn't stop the rise of fear every time. And like the other times, even though her own desire for him was being as clearly denied as his own, Judy soothed him with soft caresses over his shoulder with her good paw and soft kisses tracing down the length of his muzzle.

"I'm sorry, Carrots," he said, his tone showing his frustration that was felt as much in the aching length trapped in his pants as the fact that he knew he was disappointing her again. "I don't know why I…"

"Shhh," she breathed into the fur of his cheek, a short shiver escaping him when he felt her paw slide between the buttons of his shirt until she felt her fingers sliding into his fur. The touch was soothing somehow, not intended to arouse. Maybe it was the way she focused on the area over his heart beat and kept the kisses that trailed to the tip of his muzzle feather light, but everything she did calmed the panic. "It's all right. We'll get there."

It was impossible not to relax under her gentle paws. Paws that knew exactly how to calm him, how to ease his quick beat of his heart and gently insist that he surrender himself to her. She knew him so well that it made his heart ache that he couldn't say the same, that he couldn't be the one to tell her that it would be alright in the end. And even that ache was eased away when she touched the tip of his nose and easily used it to turn his gaze to her. That smile. Soft pink lips blending into white fur, curving upwards with just a quirk of humor before she touched that smile to the tip of his nose lightly.

"It's only been a few weeks," she reminded him and when he cupped her cheek with one paw, she turned her face to kiss the pad softly. "What matters now is that you're here, you're My Fox, and we have time. Right now, I really should get out of this uniform."

"I'd have liked to be the one taking you out of it," he joked lamely, his ears twitching unhappily when she carefully disengaged herself from him and stood beside the couch.

"I'll make you a deal," she said, her good paw resting on her hip. A hip that she cocked to the side as she looked down at him. He was pretty sure she held the pose because of the way his gaze moved over her. A gaze that was as curious as it was enthralled by the body before him. Lingering memories of her being just an annoying bunny, a bunny that wasn't at all attractive so much as she was just cute in a bunny way, were getting harder to recall. But they still reminded him, as did moments like this, that she was a creature of beauty.

"And what deal is that?" he asked, his brow quirked when he managed to raise his eyes from her hips to meet her eyes.

"We'll try again, as often as we want to," she said, the smile spreading into a slow grin that he could easily have called devious.

"And..?" he said, one brow raising as he waited for the rest.

"And what?" she said, her expression so innocent that he was left blinking after her when she turned on one paw and made her way towards the bedroom.

He dropped his head back onto the couch as a bubble of laughter worked its way out of his throat, a silly grin plastered on his muzzle.

"I love that bunny."

 **That She Hurts**

"I don't know, mom," the voice said softly, drifting through the otherwise completely silent house.

It was the first thing he clearly understood when he was drawn out of sleep, struggling to shake the blur of sleep from his mind and his eyes. Realizing that she wasn't beside him explained why her voice sounded distant and muffled. Scrubbing his paws over his face to wipe away the sleep, he turned his head and raised his ears in the direction the voice had come from. The door between her bedroom – their bedroom. He was a married fox, damn it – and the living room was closed, but he could make out the words clearly enough when she spoke again.

"No, of course not," she was saying, obviously trying to keep her voice low in an attempt not to wake him. "Of course he really remembers that we're married. He just… Doesn't remember much else about us. Look, I called because I don't know who else to talk to, not for you to tell me that I need to be patient. I _am_ being patient. I'll wait until I'm old and my fur turns white if I have to, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt sometimes."

The curiosity turned into an ache in his chest when he heard those words. Of course, he knew it. Without the vast majority of his memories, he felt the frustration every day, doubted himself and his relationship with her. Not that he loved her because there was no question in any part of him about that. But was he being the Nick that she had fallen in love with? The random, scattered memories that he did have made him doubt that. That Nick, the one she loved and the one she clearly needed, wasn't back yet. He couldn't even make love to her because of his own fears; fears that he had obviously conquered in a past that he no longer remembered.

"He said he thought about being a hustler again. Going back onto the streets," she continued, the sorrow in her tone as she said it dropping her voice. He frowned into the dark. "I don't think it was serious, and I'm glad he told me. He's just restless. I'm going to stay focused on him. No, mom. No! That isn't how it works. I can't leave him to 'take a break.' You don't know what it's like, or how lucky I am that he even accepted staying here at first. The doctor warned me not to expect that everything is normal. Because it's not. He remembers that we're married, he says he loves me, but there is so much missing between. He could still reject the memories, or fall out of love with me."

Her voice lowered and his ears dropped back when he heard the tremble of her voice followed by the soft sniffle and hitch in her breathing even through the closed door. He was already out of the bed, ignoring the chill of being dressed only in boxers and fur when he heard her gather herself enough to continue.

"I try not to let it get to me but every day when I get home, I'm afraid for just a second that I'll open the door and he won't be there. I don't even know what it would do to me if…"

Her voice trailed off when he opened the bedroom door, stepping into the main room that was lit only by the glow of the phone against her ear. A glow that stung eyes that were fully adjusted and made for the dark, though he didn't take them from her when her ears shot upright and radared in his direction. He saw her cradle it close to her ear and whisper that she had to go to her mother before she slid her paw over the screen. It was silly, the way she lowered her head to hide the way she wiped at her cheeks after setting the phone on the couch beside her. He could already smell the musty salt of them as he crossed the room to her when she turned her smiling face to look over the back of the couch.

"Hey, Slick," she said with a forced cheer, a cheer that made him wonder how often he had missed the truth of her own fear and doubts. "I was just talking to my…"

The touch of his mouth to hers silenced her. Even as a small muffled sound of surprise escaped her, he leaned over the back of the couch to slide his paws under the plush fur of her rear and lift her from the couch. The fact that she wore nothing under the light blue nighty and that his paws were gripping bare flesh and fur seemed to please them both as he dragged her against him. The sound of surprise melted into a throaty little whimper as he deepened the kiss, being far rougher than he thought he might be normally as his muzzle parted and his tongue slid out to search for hers. Even when she met him with equal passion, wrapping her legs around his back as he held her against his chest, he realized that he had to control himself. His muzzle was larger, his teeth dangerous to such soft lips, and his tongue could easily overwhelm hers if he wasn't gentle. It was almost a tease and a torment, how he wanted to go deeper and kiss harder only to hold himself back enough to ensure that he wasn't going to hurt her. At the same time, the slide of her tongue over his bottom lip and over the tips of his teeth with lavish delight showed no such restraint, and it only made him ache for her all the more.

It wasn't until he found himself carrying her back to the bedroom and lying on top of her on the now cool sheets that she broke the kiss and looked up at him. He could see everything in a faded spectrum: the quick rise and fall of her chest, the slide of that soft tongue over her lips and the way her lips glistened when it withdrew. Lit only by the faint white glow of the alarm clock, the dim room didn't allow her to see as much. But she seemed used to the dark and completely unafraid of it and him as she reached up to caress either side of his muzzle. Then her fingers wandered up over his cheeks, her shorter claws dragging over his ears in a way that made him shiver before he felt them slide into the fur at the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry, Nick," she whispered because the silent room demanded nothing less than softly spoken words between them. "I don't mean to doubt. I don't want to. It's just…"

"That you really are just a dumb bunny," he inserted lightly, causing her to blink once in the dark. Feeling her body nestled under his own and the ease in which she fit against him, adjusted herself not only to accept his weight but welcome it, made him silently curse the fact that he couldn't remember how to touch her. How to be gentle enough with her to please her without fear. But that something else and not as important now. "Very dumb, for thinking that I would ever leave you."

"I don't," she breathed, tilting her head back when he lowered his nose to the spot where her nighty met the fur of her chest. His breath ruffled her fur as he drew in her, quick little huffs that had her fingers tightening in his fur. "I try not to. When I think about it, I don't believe it. But I'm afraid sometimes."

"Don't be. Not of that," he said, his voice a gentle hum against her collarbone that made a little shiver race through her. "The idea of leaving you hasn't even crossed my mind. _Will_ never cross my mind. Even before I realized I love you, I didn't want to leave. Even before I remembered our marriage, I wasn't sure what I would do without you. Do you realize the insane plans I came up with to make you fall in love with me when I thought that it was just me?"

"Plans?" she said, a grin twitching at the corner of her muzzle. Even though her eyes were still a bit wet from tears that hadn't made it to falling, he could see the curious surprised and even a little delight on her face.

"Oh, the stupid, romantic things I would have done," he said, his voice a playfully wistful sigh that he pressed against her lips in a soft, short kiss. "Also charming and sly, I promise. I was going to hustle you into loving me. Romantic meals where I pretended not to realize I was seducing you, comments in total admiration of how beautiful you are, maybe some scent marking to make sure you were so used to my presence that you wouldn't want me to leave.

"All intended to confuse you," he said, punctuating the words with light kisses as she stared up at him. "Flatter you and baffle your bunny mind until I found a perfect time to take you and woo you into my paws for the rest of our lives."

"Is that what you were planning to do," she said, a titter of happy laughter escaping her before she dragging him down with both arms wrapped around her neck. He was glad to see that her arm didn't seem to be hurting her, showing a good deal of strength when she all but strangled him with it as she rubbed her cheek against his neck. "I think I said before, I am still open to all sorts of romance. And flattery."

"Then I'll be sure to start tomorrow." Walking her up the bed on all fours was easy – considering that she hadn't relaxed the grip of her thighs around him at all and so was still attached to his belly – and once he had dragged them back to the pillows and settled down side by side with her, he nestled his muzzle into the crook of her neck. A small chuckle escaped him when she nestled in close to him, yawning even as she rooted her face around to find a comfortable spot against his bare chest. "I'll make sure you're the most loved bunny who ever lived."

 **Friendship**

"I feel like an idiot."

The bland, unimpressed look from the gray wolf sitting across the table from him didn't surprise him. Memories of Wolford were like memories of everything else from his past life: scattered at best and mostly missing normally. His first memory of his friendship with the larger predator caught him a little off-guard, to say the least. As things came back in frustrating stops and starts, he was getting used to the fact that he had been a police officer, had been Judy's partner, had been decorated. It only made sense that he had friends in the ZPD, until the reality of that fact had slapped him in the face. Huster Nick, who dodged the police with a skill that often left their heads spinning, had an actual police officer friend. The strangeness of that had almost made him hesitate during their first meeting, but five minutes and half a beer later, the conversation had started to flow so easily that the oddity had vanished completely.

Now it was almost funny. A few conversations later, after learning that his fellow officers didn't only approve of his relationship with Judy but acted like some impromptu cheerleader for it, it was like they had been friends for years.

Because… Well, they had been.

"You look like an idiot," Wolford deadpanned, without a touch of sympathy in his voice as he leaned back in the comfortable wooden chair. They waited for their meals in the poultry restaurant, which Wolford had insisted on being their normal meeting place. "That shirt is still terrible. I hope the memory of your fashion evolution comes back to you soon, because, damn."

"It's comfortable," he shrugged, glancing down at the yellow Hawaiian shirt and khaki pants he wore. "And it doesn't look that bad. Do you have any idea how many pawpsicle I sold wearing this?"

Knowing that the wolf understood that "comfortable" went further than just the way the pants fit or the breezy hang of the shirt meant that he didn't need to explain further. There were still wide gaps in memory that prevented him from real feeling some part of his life beyond being a street fox and con artist. The fact that Wolford knew the stories of his life before Judy, knew the hustler as well as he knew the cop, only further cemented their friendship in Nick's mind. He was sort of like a law abiding Finnick, something that he would never tell either of them if he wanted to keep his tail where it was.

"I know, I know. Two hundred bucks worth a day, not including what you paid your 'son' for his assistance," the other chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You've always been way too proud of that, Nick."

"It was a good business model," he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as his ears dropped back to express annoyance he didn't really feel. "And I made a lot more in a day than you. And before you say anything, I know, I know. It's not about the money. It's about being a part of something better, making a difference and all that."

"And the way that her uniform highlights her insane bunny butt," Wolford inserted innocently, making him nearly choke on a sip of beer. "Those were your words, mind you."

"Yeah," Nick sighed, both paws wrapped around the dark bottle as he stared at it wistfully. "Hard to deny that aspect of it."

"So, are you going to tell me why you're an idiot?" his friend asked after a long moment, "Or will you continue to stare at the bottle as some woefully inadequate stand in for your wife?"

Rolling green eyes skyward, Nick set the bottle down without another drink and leaned forward to meet the patient dark eyes of the wolf.

"I didn't see how afraid she is. I mean, I know this has been affecting her. I'm not completely oblivious," he grunted, waving his paw absently when the wolf narrowed his eyes a bit. "But last night I woke up to find her pouring her heart out to her mom about how she's afraid I'm going to leave her. That she's going to come home one day, and find an empty house."

"It's not unheard of, you know," Wolford said, though his tone was sympathetic. For which one of them, Nick couldn't tell. "Not that I expect you to leave but sometimes it happens. I didn't expect it to be a concern of hers once you remembered your marriage. Did it ever cross your mind?"

"Before I remembered anything, yeah. Of course, it did," he said, admitting what he hadn't to Judy. It caused a little turn in his stomach, realize what he could have lost if he had followed the impulse to just leave the first day she had gone to work. Thankfully that day, he had decided to call his mom and she had gently pleaded with him to give it time. "But even before I spent the day rolling around in her scent – and you can stop grinning at me like that. I already regret telling you that story – I was already the one worried that she was going to leave me. And I still am."

"So," Wolford began, an exasperated sigh escaping through his broad nose as he leaned over the table, "before I start my list of the reasons that you are both being idiots, you're going to have to explain that to me. I think it's obvious by now that she loves you, so why would _she_ be the one to leave when _she_ was the one worried that _you_ would leave?"

He could admit that it was male pride that had him picking up the beer again and muffling his reply behind the sip he took. The bitter flavor of the now only slightly cold beer was made more so by the perked ears and raised brow of his friend. Damned wolf ears were almost as sensitive as bunny ears.

"I'm sorry, did you say that you haven't had marital relations since you got that part of your memory back?"

He wasn't sure if it was the open shock in the other male's tone or the fact that he used the term used that made him place a paw over his muzzle to smother the unavoidable humor. "Did you really just call it 'marital relations?' What, are we super conservative in our conversations? Because if we are I am going to have to question the validity of this friendship, buddy."

There it was again. That odd perkiness that seemed to come over the wolf every time he was called 'buddy.' Ears perked, the little upturn of the corners of his muzzle, bright eyes. Nick could only assume that it had some meaning that he couldn't remember, but decided it would be best not to overuse it until he remembered exactly what it meant.

"Well, no," the now perky wolf admitted, turning his attention to the cougar that stepped up to their side of the table with their meals. Once settled and alone again, Wolford waved his fork and continued around the first bite of the fragrant poultry. "So, you haven't had sex. Trying to wait for your memories to come back or somethin'?"

"I'm afraid I'll hurt her," Nick said, deciding to be blunt and not avoid the subject. If Wolford knew them as well as it seemed he did, maybe he could get some insight into why he was afraid of it. "I mean, do you know if I ever hurt her before?"

"Oh, no! No, never," came the denial, a heartfelt one despite being said around a mouthful of food. The rest waited for a hasty swallow helped by a sip of beer, during which Nick was relieved by the answer. "When you two first got together, I couldn't tell which one of you had less control. You were all over each other."

All over each other. That he could believe, at least for certain from his perspective. It was getting hard for him to look at her without wanting her and that softly sweet scent of hers, a scent that deepened when she was aroused, made his mouth water and his tongue lick at the roof of his mouth. Wanting her wasn't the issue, though.

"I freeze," he murmured, poking his rice with the fork without much interest in eating. "I panic. We'll be close – and I mean tongues tangled and paws all over each other close – but suddenly I'll realize how small she is. I'll see my claws in her fur and I'll start to wonder if I'm being too rough. I don't know if I'm hurting her when I kiss her so I hold back just to make sure my teeth don't touch her. I don't remember how to touch her. I don't remember how to control myself, and every time I feel that control start to slip I lock up. I can't hurt her, Wolford. It's like an instinct and I know it would kill me if I let myself go too far only to realize that…"

"Listen, Nick," Wolford cut him off, setting his own fork down to set both arms on the table, leaning forward so he could lower his voice. Most mammals with good hearing were polite enough to tune out such conversations, but some things were hard to ignore. "I see where the problem lies. You don't remember being her partner. You don't remember what she's like. I've been her partner for over a month now and I can tell you that that bunny is not the fragile little thing that she seems to be. I've seen her take down perps as big as Bogo without so much as ruffling her fur. I've seen her win staring contests with polar bears. I don't know how it is with other bunnies but from what I've seen, it's obvious that she's not like them. She married a fox. She married you, and everything that goes with that."

"I get that," Nick said, sorting back through what memories he did have of her as his partner. Not many, as most of them centered around personal moments rather than doing the job. "I understand it, even. But just because she married me doesn't mean that everything was compatible."

"Compatible," Wolford drawled, his tongue dangling from the tip of his muzzle in a mocking gesture. "Like I said, you two were all over each other. Prey or not, there is a certain way a female looks and acts when she's happy with her mate. She didn't walk around looking smug and dreamy eyed, smelling like a fox because she _tolerated_ sex out of love. And she certainly doesn't get so turned on during patrol that I can smell it because we're reminiscing about Clawhauser. Speaking of which, when are you going to come back to the force? I know Bogo has already opened a position for you to start on light duty. Complete memory or not, you've been welcome back to start with light duty to get you back on your feet. Why did you even take the tests if you weren't going to come back? Judy misses you; misses her partner. Which is what leads to her reminiscing."

"It's in there but I don't remember much more than my first few days on the job," he replied, giving up on finishing what was on his plate as he leaned back to cradle the beer bottle with both paws. "In my mind, I am still the street hustler. A lot of what made me a good cop is still missing and I don't want to screw it up."

"That's bullshit," the wolf snorted in reply, making him frown a bit without raising his eyes. "Everything that made you a good cop is sitting right in front of me. You are everything that made Judy want you as a partner right now and that had nothing to do with the experience you gained being an officer. It isn't the training or years of experience that she trusts, Nick. It's you."

" _Take the case," she whispered urgently, holding the shielded gray case out to him. "Get it to Bogo."_

" _I'm not going to leave you behind," he said, pressing his paws into the top of the case to push it back towards her. Adrenaline, fear, and disbelief colored his tone when he met her eyes. "That's not happening!"_

" _I can't walk!" she pressed as if that somehow made it okay for him to just leave her behind at the mercy of the sheep._

" _Just… We'll think of something!" he said, ready to ignore any further insistence on her part as his mind raced and his gaze swept the ground around them. Their eyes turned towards the sound of the sheep's voice again – and really, that sheep was behind all of this? She was so fluffy! – and he fought back the panic that started to rise as he reached out to snatch the case away from the injured bunny._

" _Still not leaving, Fluff," he stated with a roll of his eyes when he saw the grateful acceptance on her face. Popping the latch and taking the dart gun from the case, he repeated the motions he had seen the ram perform to open the back of the gun. Fumbling a bit as the pellet almost fell to the ground, he slipped it into his shirt pocket after managing to catch it without breaking it. "We're going to make a break for it."_

" _Then what are you doing?" she questioned, and he saw realization dawn on her face when he plucked a pair of blueberries off the ground and popped them into the chamber. A perfect fit._

" _Insurance, in case making a break for it doesn't work," he said, snapping the receiver back into place as he moved his eyes to hers. The uncertainty and fear on his face was reflected in hers, and he shrugged while quickly shoving the gun back into the case. Was that damn sheep still talking? Would she ever shut up? "I know, I know. Stupid idea, but..."_

 _He stopped when she placed her small over his when he lifted the case. The little lift at the corner of her muzzle and the earnest but warm look she gave him stopped him for just a moment as he felt the warmth in her eyes._

" _I trust you."_

Realizing that he was being watched didn't bother him, nor did the fact that his friend continued to eat without comment as he relived the memory. It wasn't the first time that Wolford had seen him try to sort through something remembered, and like before the patient wolf simply waited for him to refocus on the present. He was grateful for it as he ran the memory through his mind over again. The so-called Night Howler Incident was one of those huge gaps in his memory, and easily the most important.

Between the moment where he stood in front of the naturalist club, asking her to hand over the carrot pen, and his decision to become a police officer and her partner, things had changed between them. Dislike and suspicion had become trust and friendship. The fact that he had fallen in love with her seemed inevitable beyond that. That love had come again, filled him so that the very idea of being without her made him miserable. It had all seemed so natural, so easy, that he couldn't imagine existing any other way. That made it amazing and precious and…

 _And why does it matter what I remember, if I know?_

 **What is Important**

The house was quiet and darker than it should have been. The combination of the two had alarms going off in her head, fear tightening her gut, and her heart and mind at war with each other as the silent emptiness tried to creep in. Tried to warn her, foolishly, that this was it. He was gone. Every promise made, every assurance that he would never leave didn't stop the moment. It was irrational and unwanted, but that also made it unavoidable. The seed of the fear, when she had those moments when she was honest with herself, was frustration and a little voice in the back of her mind that kept trying to tell her that he just wasn't attracted to her. It was an easy, lazy excuse and she knew it. But that didn't make it less real. He didn't remember how or when things had started to change between them, after all. Didn't that mean it was possible that the moment when he realized that he saw her as more than a 'cute little bunny' had never come again?

"Nick?" she called, running her hand slowly over her belly in an attempt to calm it. Then hand moved to slide over her ears when his muffled voice called from the bedroom, smoothing them back as she let relief and her own frustration with her doubt settle in. Dropping her keys on the table beside the door, she reached up to unstrap the blue knife-vest as heavy paws carried her into the bedroom.

She paused in the doorway with a frown when she saw that the lights were off in the bedroom, too. Easing the vest from her aching shoulders, her gaze fell on the dim light coming from the open bathroom door. She reached for the light switch but was stopped by the sound of his voice again.

"Don't turn on the lights," it said, making her paw stop right before doing just that. "Come in here for a minute, will you, Carrots?"

A long day at work and her own inner turmoil had her rolling her eyes, letting the vest hang limp in one paw as she trudged into the bathroom. Whatever her annoyance and self-flagellation had tried to tell her about the annoyingly playful tone in the fox's voice died when she saw what waited for her in the bathroom.

If she had been paying attention to anything more than her bad mood and aching paws, she would have noticed the scent of burning candles. The light scent apple blossoms – faint enough to remind her of the orchards back in Bunnyburrow – teased her nose, enhanced by the humidity of the room itself. What few candles there were on the sink shed enough light for her to see that the bath was filled with clear steaming water; water that looked so tempting to her aching body. But none of that was what allowed the vest to slip from numb fingers and plop into the tiled floor. No. It was the fact that the candlelight played over cream and orange fur, not an inch of it covered; and the fact that the scent of apples mingled with the familiar scent of fox; and that said naked fox was facing her, his muzzle propped up on paws that were placed on the rim of the bath. And the grin on that muzzle was _all_ relaxed charm and smug pleasure, a pleasure that was no doubt because of her reaction.

"Officer Hopps."

That ridiculously smooth and teasing way he said her name, which had been largely missing from her life after his memory loss, caused her to swallow unexpected nervousness. When combined with the appealing view of her very naked fox, with his ears perked high and luminescent green eyes focused on her in the dim room, it was hard to stop the little wobble in her knees. She knew her nose was twitching, too, but couldn't find the calm needed to stop it when surprise, nervous energy and frank attraction to the image before her prevented her brain from engaging fully.

"Buh?"

The fact that his muzzle split into a wider, toothy grin had a blush racing up the length of her ears as the skin under fur warmed in embracement and arousal. This simply had not been anywhere near the list of things she had expected to find when she came home, particularly him being naked and looking far more confident than he had in over a month. The way emerald green eyes focused on her with affection and desire did all sort of wonderful things to her insides, at the foremost of which was a rise of hope when he patted the edge of the bath.

"Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to join me, Fluff? This bath won't get any warmer until your tail is in it with me."

"That was terrible," she said with a snort of trembling laughter. She didn't hesitate to take him up on the offer, though, just like she didn't hesitate to simply yank her uniform shirt off over her head and toss it into the bedroom.

"This water is terrible," he said, turning to lean back in the wide tub with one paw sliding over his ears dramatically as he thrust his chest out. Hands that were busy unbuttoning her pants paused when her gaze tracked the cream-colored fur down the front of his toned body, coming to rest on the thick sheath between his thighs. Particularly the red tip that was peeking out of said sheath. "Terribly lonely without my wife in it with me."

"Now you're just trying to be cheesy," she said, shaking of the sharp spike in need that rolled over her at the first sight of his arousal. Shoving her pants and briefs down in one motion, she paused when his eyes settled on her as she did so. The wet form of the fox turned in the bath to face her again, muzzle resting on his paws as he watched her without the worry or doubt that had clouded his gaze before. Now it held an open fascination and appreciation when she shimmied her hips a bit to slide her pants down around her paws before she kicked that out into the bedroom, too.

"I'm cheesy when I'm nervous," he admitted, though the look in his eyes went from fascinated to hungry at the sight of her fully nude. The difference in his attitude, his easy of speaking, and the way he watched her were all obvious. Maybe he had remembered something. Maybe it had been something that had reminded him that he didn't need to be afraid of hurting her. But as curious as she might have been to know what had caused it, she didn't want to press as her heart fluttered and her body tingled when the long pink muscle of his tongue slid out over his muzzle.

"You don't look nervous," she mumbled as she moved closer to the edge of the tub, raising one leg to step over the edge. She paused when one large paw slipped behind her knee and another rested on her hip to help her keep balance. She blinked slowly down at him when he leaned close to her, placing a light kiss on her hip that caused a little shiver to slide deliciously down her spine. Then both paws claimed her hips, lifting her easily over the edge before slowly lowering her into the hot water.

"I'm very nervous," he said as she gave little hiccuping gasps as the heat of the water enveloped her up to her chest soaked into her fur. The time it took her to adapt to the heat surrounding her distracted her to the fact that she was just as surrounded by fox. His legs were spread on either side of her hips so that the first thing she became very clearly aware of was the fact that his sheath was nestled against the small of her back. And as appealing as that was, it wasn't the focus for long when his arms wrapped around her to draw her back into his belly. That long muzzle nestled against the base of one relaxed ear, causing her lips to part at the pleasant sensation of his humming voice speaking softly against it. "I've never done this before."

His words clarified the state of his memory and caused a thrill of pleasure to race through her when he brushed his teeth through the fur of her ear. Light, sensual, but careful. The sort of bite she might have expected from him in the first days of their relationship before she had really started to urge him not to hold himself as much as he often did. Stretching one arm up over her head so she could reach around to grip the back of his neck, she did just that. Urged him until he nipped again so that she felt the gentle slide of his canines over the flesh under fur. A little groan escaped her and had him doing it again before he latched on softly and released a soft sound that was right on the edge of a growl. If he continued, she knew she would become a puddle of melted bunny and a slave to his desires. The need to have her fox back, to feel him touch her, had her squirm slowly with a roll of hips back against his.

"If you don't remember, what changed?" she asked as she savored the feel of his pads sliding down the front of her body. Her heart demanded patience while her body cried for a quickening. She hammered the desire down even as her free hand slid down his thigh, feeling a light pulse from the length that slowly rose against the small of her back.

"I realized why I kept freezing," he said, and she slid forward when his hands took control of her hips to nudge her away from him slightly. Disappointment quickly faded when he moved her away from his body only to see him reach for the scent free fur shampoo. The choice was so very Nick. Her scent was what he wanted, not some artificial flower. "I thought it was just because I didn't want to hurt you, which was a part of it. A very large part of it. But that branched from the fact that I convinced my mind that if I didn't remember something, I couldn't do it right."

While he explained, she submitted herself to his paws. The cool sensation of a good bit of the shampoo being poured over her shoulders, the sensation of his fingers gently working it into a lather. The tingle of arousal mingled with a calming relaxation that had her quietly debating which she wanted more: to be taken that very minute with every bit of passion he could muster or to simply let him pamper her. A question that was momentarily answered when his palm-pad pressed into the top of her shoulders and his fingers spread out. The massage came as a surprise, but the first slow roll of his thumb around the almost forgotten ache in her shoulder muscles drew a contented moan. Her head dropped forward, her ears flopping and slapping the surface of the water in a way that had him chuckling as he continued to wash/massage her.

"Well, you were obviously wrong about that," she groaned in pure delight when his thumb pads ran in small circles on either side of her neck, right at the base where the worst of the tension seemed to be. "That feels amazing."

"Anything for you, Fluff," he said, and the way he focused his attention on a spot right below her shoulder-blades had her letting out another long sound of pleasure. She didn't even have to ham it up for him. She knew what he was doing or had started to do when she had stepped into the bath with him. What had started as a way for him to learn her body again had become something entirely for her benefit. The fact that she felt not the slightest bit of guilt was purely selfish on her part, but he didn't seem to mind. The fact that he was almost fully hard – sans knot – against the small of her back now was a clear enough sign of that, along with the way the pace of his paws didn't change or urge more from her than the nudge forward so he could move lower.

"So now you… Ah! That spot, right there!" she cried when he cupped her waist with both paws and ran his thumbs slowly and firmly over a tender bunch of muscles on her lower back. The pain at the start was worth it a hundred times over as they started to relax under his now focused attention. "I've always loved your paws."

"Have you," he hummed, switching the direction of his paws until she could feel them cupping her hips under the water to scoot her rear back against him. The heat of his arousal right up against her tail made her shiver even as it caused a little lusty growl to rise in his throat. "What is it that you love about my paws?"

"They're big," she breathed, wiggling her hips and her tail in a motion that made him throb against her. The water might have hidden the musky scent of his arousal for the most part, but just feeling it so obviously after so long made her blood run hot. "I feel like you're touching me everywhere at once sometimes. But you're almost always gentle."

"Almost always?" he questioned, making her whimper when his paws left her hips and reached for the soap again. When they returned, their attention now shifted to the fur on top of her head and around the base of her ears. Remembering their sex life or not, he certainly had learned some sensitive spots. The tingle that spread like a pleasant warmth from her ears and scalp traveled down her spine until her desire to simply raise her hips and take him inside of her was almost overpowering. The ache of need denied even this much until now, was almost painful.

"You get a little wild sometimes," she said, her head tilted back as he slowly worked the lather around the base of each ear without letting it get into the ear itself. She felt his fingers slow and tilted her head back to look at the slight frown on his muzzle. Her lips turned up into a grin as she slid her paws down his thighs slowly. "I love it when you're wild. I love it when you're gentle. There were times when you've spent what felt like hours kissing and touching me until I just wanted to beg you to take me. Just like there were times when we would get home from work and hardly make it through the door before you would bend me over whatever piece of furniture we managed to reach first. I have very fond memories of the dining room table, you know."

"Carrots," he all but groaned, and she squirmed herself back against him until she felt a very lively throb from the length of fox she had trapped between softly furred cheeks.

"And the back of the couch," she continued, her grin growing sultry as her eyes heated at the almost pained looked on his face. His ears were set back, obviously trying to show some control, but it was impossible for her not to tease him when the paws on her ears tried their best to continue the gentle wash he had clearly planned in very detail. Even as she continued, she rocked back to meet the eager grind of his hips. And it felt so good, just feeling him that intimately again; feeling the need rolling through him as his moans mingled with a growl. "And the wall in the hallway. I've wondered if it is just something you like doing with me because I'm small and light enough for you to just pick up and shove against any random surface. But you've always had a thing for pinning me against the wall. So predatory, demanding, desperate. I feel so beautiful and needed when you can't control yourself."

"Fluff," he tried again, the near whimper of his voice delighting her to no end, just like the feel of his claws sliding past the fur to brush against her skin so softly that it was like the touch of a feather.

Still being so gentle. This was Her Fox, even if he didn't remember everything that made him so. He was still the Nick she had fallen in love with and she was still his mate. She could hear his heart as clearly as she could feel the hot breath close to her ears and the throb of his need. An arch of the hips allowed her tail to peek out of the water, along with the white fur of her rear when she leaned away from him a bit. Just to give him the view of her raised hips, which he drank in and reached for with a gleam of nearly feral lust in his eyes.

With a tinkling laugh, she rolled onto her back between those paws so she could dunk herself under the surface. Squirming around when she felt his hands fall on her hips, she rubbed her hands over her fur quickly to rinse off the soap before she found herself dragged into his arms. Muzzle to muzzle, nose to nose, eye to eye. She felt the humor of her short escape from the aroused fox fade when she met his gaze. The feel and sound of water raining down their bodies as she rested her paws on his chest to brace herself was background sensation to the feeling of her own heart beating fast. And she realized that he wasn't the only nervous one in their bath, her belly quivering just because of how he looked at her. Like he was still trying to figure everything out, reaching for information that was just beyond his reach.

"We're not going to stop this time, are we?" she whispered, feeling more than a little shy under the intensity of his gaze. The hunger in those green eyes was so familiar, but somehow different at the same time. Tempered and restrained, but just on the edge of breaking out.

"No," came his reply in a voice that was a little rough as he dragged her closer. She could feel his heat pulse against her belly fur and quivered into the kiss when his mouth met hers. Soft but deep, slow but not innocent, his tongue met hers the moment their mouths parted. Her own pleased moan was drowned under his growl, just as her mouth was covered by his. Not forcefully, not without care, but overwhelming all the same until all she wanted was to wrap her body around his and feel him slide into her.

Instead, she felt the motion of their bodies when he stood and carried her out of the bath. About to wrap her legs around him, she blinked slowly and broke the kiss when he set her on her feet. Slightly confused and slightly disappointed, her eyes rose to him to find him grinning down at her toothily.

"No, we're not going to stop this time," he assured her, reaching to tug a thick, fluffy towel from the rack on the wall. "But we're not going to rush it either."

"What if I want to rush it?" she huffed, dripping in more ways than one as she squirmed in place. She could see that he knew exactly what her current state was by the flare of his nostrils, the slow slide of his tongue over the roof of his mouth and the continued grin as he lowered himself to one knee in front of her. Her ears folded back when he simply unfolded the towel and held it out for her. When she stepped into the offered warmth, she turned around to face away from him as he started to scrub it over her fur slowly.

Even knowing that he was trying to be patient and take his time was having the opposite effect on her. She was with her husband, after all. She knew his body, knew what she wanted and it had been so long. Feeling selfish wasn't stopping her body from arching slowly into the hands that she could feel through the towel as he dried her. When he cupped her belly and chest, sliding the towel more carefully over the white fur there as he breathed in her ear, her legs shook. The feeling of the cloth over her nipples sent little shocks through her, pleasure and need gathering between her thighs until her sex ached. Even though she tried to calm herself, tried to give him everything that he wanted, the scent of aroused fox was all around her. Like flowers and male and salt all mingled together in a combination that made her want to whimper. It had been so long and she needed him so much.

Even as she struggled between the need to please him and the need to satisfy her own unbearable desire, she realized that the paw cupping her rear was not separated from her by a towel. The slightly rough pad of his palm slowly explored the cleft under her, sliding lower as she felt the press of his muzzle against her ear. The whisper of a growl that he released made her already shaky legs wobble, forcing her to lean back against him when his fingers slipped between her thighs.

"You're hot," he murmured, sounding as surprised by it as he had the first time they had made love. She was certain that she was, and felt the shock of pleasure when he allowed one thick finger to slide over the folds of her sex. Slick flesh parted easily to him, her head dropping back on his shoulder so she could moan to the ceiling as the pad explored her easily. "You smell amazing."

"Nick, please," she groaned, and in a sexual daze watched his free paw move to the switch on the wall. Warm air billowed over them as the fur driers embedded in the walls came on. Using that warming little distraction, he pressed that single finger deeper, causing her hips to arch back even as her legs finally decided to give out. She didn't just drop to the floor. He didn't allow that to happen. One paw spread over her chest while the other remained seated between her legs from behind, lowering her to the ground until she settled on her hands and knees. His body followed, staying close, half covering her so his muzzle could stay close to her ear and his chest was pressed to her back.

"You're so amazing. So small and so beautiful," he said, and to her, his voice sounded half-drunk with a need all his own. Oddly, it calmed him that he was as needy as she was. He wasn't doing this because he wanted to tease her; he was doing this because he wanted to know her. She felt the curious finger moving over wet flesh, dipping deeper to make her hike her hips up as the pressure inside of her increased until she was panting and staring off into space. There was nothing for her to see or hear or smell or feel beyond the fox behind and on top of her. The slick sound of his finger pumping into her now, the tickle of his fur on her outer lips, the not quite complete fullness just because of how large his paws were. All of it was pushing her so close…

"I love you, Judy."

The softly murmured words, the fact that he said her name for the first time since she had come home: it was all too much. She was sent tumbling over the edge of orgasm so suddenly that the shockwave of emotion and sensation combined to tear a sound from her muzzle that wasn't at all civilized. She fisted her fingers into the plush rug under her as she arched her hips back to his now quickly moving paw, a paw that cupped her sex fully and moved with the swift buck of her hips. She rode the sensation, rode the finger inside of her and the pad of his palm as it pressed to the sensitive bud of her clit. She didn't know when the sob came or when the tears started to fall, but she knew that it was just another part of the release that had been building for so long.

What should have weakened her only energized her and made her want more. She felt his paw slow, felt him draw his muzzle away from her ears and when she glanced up, realized that he was frowning with his ears pinned back because of the tears that had fallen. A quick sniff and a brush of her paw over her cheeks was enough to remove the traces even as he looked at her worriedly.

"Did I..?"

Dumb fox. A paw covered in the juices of her orgasm and he no doubt wondered if he'd hurt her.

"Make me feel so good that I cried a little?" she chirped, moving closer to him as he stood on his knees to give her room to move.

She heard his sharp intake of breath when she moved close to him, still on her hands and knees, and pressed her nose into the still damp fur of his belly. Clean as he was, the scent of his wet fur was lightly floral, very male and didn't hide the salty scent of his arousal. The arousal that she cupped with both silky paws, tracing her fingers up the length of red flesh until she felt the damp of precum sliding between her fingers. She kept her eyes on his, enjoying the fact that he seemed entranced when she leaned forward to slide her tongue over her fingers to savor the taste of him without actually touching him. She allowed herself that moment to tease him, where his attention was fully focused on her and what she did; from the high position of his ears to the little quivering twitches of his broader nose. The sharp huff of his exhale when she touched the tip of her nose against the base of his shaft was followed by a long groan when she slid her tongue up the length. She watched him clench his teeth, his eyes closed for a moment when she rolled that tongue over the narrow tip until his hips tensed and pressed the achingly hard flesh more firmly into her paws. Then she drew back, licking her lips as she waited patiently for his eyes to open again. The pleading in them made her heart flutter and her arousal spike, and she knew that she wouldn't be teasing him for long. But she could still tease just a little.

She made sure he his mouth was open to speak before she parted her lips and carefully slid the tip between them for a light suck. Whatever he had planned on saying escaped as a throaty sound; primal, needy and pleased all at once. She tasted that need again, savored the salt and male flavor that she had missed as she felt his hips tremble with the effort to keep himself still. He was as on edge as she had been, and she had no doubt that she could send him over. Her fingers confirmed it when she felt the beginning swell of his knot at the base before she let him slide free with a little flick of her tongue over the tip.

"Are you done exploring me, fox?" she questioned, seeing that feral, predatory glint come back into his eyes. It was more intense this time. The need to mate. She knew that look and longed for what it would bring. So she pushed for more as she nestled her muzzle against the pulsing and very hard length, little huffing breaths whispering over the length as she continued. "If you can catch me, you can have me."

The way his eyes narrowed on her the moment before she released him and scrambled through the door on all fours told her that he got it. It wasn't even a chase. He might not remember playing this game before, hunting her through the house, but she could tell that he remembered the rules when he was on her before she even made it to the bedroom door. The surprised 'whompph' of her breath leaving her when her mad dash for the door was cut short by the sensation of being lifted and swung towards the bed.

Her back hit the cool silk covering the mattress was a short-term sensation, instantly overwhelmed by the heat of her fox over her. The scent of him, the heat of him on top of her taking all other sensation from the world and focusing every nerve on the brush of fur against fur, flesh against flesh when her thighs parted for him until she felt the tip of his need nudge the mouth of her sex. Whether he intended to be gentle or not was lost when she squeezed strong thighs around him, and even as he rose on his elbows to look down at her she dragged him forward firmly. The sharp moment of pain from being stretched so after so long without him inside of her was drowned in the pleasure as their voices called out together. Then they lay together, both breathing deeply and trembling as they savored the closeness of being joined so completely.

Realizing that it was very much like their first time all over again, Judy felt the need blend with a contentment that came just knowing that he was inside of her. She savored the heat of him inside of her, the heat of his body on top of hers, the pressure his size created and the knowledge that there was more to come. And him. The little whispers of his breath over her ears; soft inhales and slow, heated exhales that came between soft licks. She brushed her lips over his chest in light kisses, pausing for sharp moan when he drew back almost to the tip only to fill her again. He was testing his limits, she knew. Savoring at least as much as she was with every thrust that followed, but still holding himself back. Still afraid that he could hurt her.

"All of you Nick," she whispered, tightening around him when he sheathed himself inside of her fully. The sound of his moans and the thickening at the base of his length told her how close he was, just like the shaking in his arms told her how hard he was trying to hold back. "Don't hold back. I'm your wife, your partner, and I've always wanted this. I will always want this."

The last she said as she tightened her arms and legs around him and because he seemed to accept the truth of it she felt him tense as he allowed himself to slip fully inside her. The swelling that had been hardly noticeable came so quickly inside of her that it was almost painful. The increase in pressure, the fullness as his knot thickened and locked inside of her was bliss to the body that had grown to love the feeling. Hesitation was thrown to the wind when she felt him buck against her. Her hips rose to meet the quick, urgent thrusts that came now that he was no longer able to hold the need back, no longer saw the need to hold it back. His arms gave way until she felt the full weight of him on top of her, felt him arch his back so that he could bury his muzzle in her throat. The bite came as a surprise but acted as a catalyst when the build of pleasure came on like fire in her blood. The sharp drag of his teeth and the vibration of his voice when he growled was as erotic and blissful to her as the pleasure of his flesh throbbing inside of her.

She felt him tense. Felt every muscle under her paws and pressed against her body tighten and strain as he ground his hips against hers. She felt his shaft thicken, felt his knot pulse eagerly, and bore down against the rush that was so intense that it was almost agony when she felt him fill her with liquid heat. Pulse after pulse, beat after beat until she muffled her scream into the fur of his shoulder. Months of need and denial robbed her of the ability to think when orgasm rippled through her with such intensity that light bloomed behind closed eyes. All she could do was ride it out, cling to him as he clung to her and allow their bodies to have what they needed from one another.

She didn't think she passed out, though she was sure it was close. Drowning in sensation had left her adrift in a weightless world where the first coherent thought she had was the sound of his voice whispering her name. Then came loving words that she didn't fully translate at first, but got the gist of their meaning when they were combined with the gentle feel of his paws sliding over her muzzle and his lips brushing hers. When her eyes finally managed to open, she was looking into emerald green eyes that watched her from a face that was as blissfully content as she felt.

Stages of happiness, she decided. She could track them from the moment she had learned he was alive after the attack, to the moment she saw him look at her with love in his eyes for the first time since losing his memory, and then hearing him proclaim that he was her husband. And every moment between. Every one of those moments a step up, closer to where she wanted to be. To where she wanted them to be; both happy, together, and ridiculously in love.

And locked together by the knot that made her insides ache in the best of ways. If that wasn't bliss, she didn't know what the word meant.

"That was," he began after a moment, then shook his head when words failed him.

"That was us," she said for him, spreading her fingers out over his chest to feel the muscle under fur even as she felt one of his paws slide along the curve of her hip.

"It's always like this? How are we alive?" he said, that cocky grin crawling over his muzzle just before he pressed that muzzle to hers.

"Well, not _always,_ " she countered with a short laugh when the kiss broke, more than content at the moment to just savor this 'mandatory cuddle time.' Not that she ever felt he needed to be forced to cuddle. Once Nicholas Wilde had opened up, he had proven to be every bit the devoted and cuddle-hungry mate. "But often enough that we keep trying until we reach it again."

The grin grew on his muzzle as the eager humor in his eyes turned sultry and heated for a moment. Then as they lay together, she saw his expression become curious and somber. Maybe a little uncertain, maybe a little frightened when he reached up to cup her face in both paws.

"Carrots, have I ever thanked you?"

"Thanked me?" Genuinely confused, she place her paws over his lightly and searched his face.

"For this," he said and she didn't bother to hide her chuckle when he rolled his eyes at the wiggle of her eyebrows. He ground his hips forward, tearing a little groan from her when he rubbed every little spot inside of her just the right way. "Yes, this too. But I mean all of this. This life."

"Nick," she began but was stopped when he placed a finger over her muzzle.

"I was a street hustler who had given up on ever being more than that before I was dragging into your house with a head wound and no memory of the last three years." He moved his paw, placing a soft kiss on her lips before he continued. "And since then, I've learned that I am trusted and honorable. I've learned that I am a member of the ZPD and that people like me for who I am, and not what I pretend to be. I have friends who have just been waiting for me to remember them. My mom is proud of me. Hell, _I_ am proud of who I am."

"Nick, this is who you really are," she said, smiling softly as she felt a little rise of pride in her chest. "Everything you've done came from who you are, not because of me."

"I don't think so, not entirely," he admitted, shaking his head slightly before meeting her eyes. "Maybe who I was before, with these, slowly returning memories, forgot where I came from. But because I don't have those memories, I see it all clearly. I may have worked for what I have now, but I would never have taken the steps needed without you. And I know I can see myself as more than the hustler I most remember being because you trust me. Everything, all you've done for me, is what's important. This happiness, what to me is a life that I was never meant to have, exists because you are mine and I am yours. I love you, Judy. And I want to thank you for loving me."

The tears that blurred her vision and finally fell were kissed away by his gentle tongue as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Those words, so similar to those he had said in the past – words that he didn't remember but still felt – eased whatever fear still lingered in her heart. And it reminded her that, even without those memories, this was still Her Fox.

And he always would be.

 **Nicholas Wilde**

Waking up that morning should have been hard. He had woken her up once in the middle of the night, taking the first real taste of her that he could remember. And that delightful bit of self-indulgence, where he learned exactly how delicious rabbit was, had turned into an hour-long lovemaking that had kept them up until two in the morning. He had expected to be more dead than alive when he woke, but it was hard to stay asleep when she seemed intent on returning his late-night favor by taking her own taste of him as the glow of the morning sun peeked in through the window. He soon found that pinning her face down and taking her from behind, while she muffled her delighted cries with a pillow, had been more than enough to invigorate him for the day to come.

A day that promised to be busy and had him cross his arms as he stood beside the bed and stared down at his sleeping wife. Not that he minded the view of the bunny, who slept on her side facing away from him. Not a stitch of clothing had managed to make its way back onto that toned and softly furred body. He was afforded a beautiful view that he took a moment to admire for the second time that morning before he leaned over and pressed his muzzle against her ear.

"Wake up, Fluff. You have to get ready for work."

Waking was a slow process, even as he nibbled on her bare shoulder and ran his paw down the curve of her hip slowly. She grumbled a bit, drawing a chuckle from him when she reached back to grab his paw and drag it up to her chest to hug.

"I'll call in sick," she muttered, not even bothering to open her eyes as she used her grip on his hand to try to drag him back into bed. "Stay in bed with me all day. Catch up."

How tempting an offer that was, that it made him sigh and have to actively resist the desire to crawl in beside her again. But no, he had been ideal enough.

"I would love to," he quipped, then slowly dragged his arm away from her as she protested the loss by turning and blinking sleepily up at him. "But I just ironed my uniform and wouldn't want to go in for my first day back looking like the fox who'd just attacked a bunny."

That woke her up. Another few blinks followed before she sat bolt upright with ears so high they trembled when she realized that he was in his duty uniform. He grinned as he stepped back, holding his arms out to show the crisp and neatly pressed blues, shiny brass shield and the name tag that read _Nicholas P. Wilde._

"How do I look?" he asked, then shook his head at her expression when she looked on the verge of tears. "No, no, no Officer Hopps. If you're going to cry, cry after I've survived my first day. Bogo is expecting me, and says you can have your partner back as long as you're all right with light duty for the ne…"

He was cut off by her mouth on his when she launched herself from the bed and threw her arms around him. All the talk about wrinkling his uniform when right out the window when her kiss became heated and her paws gripped his tie so she could drag him back into bed and under her. All in all, having to smooth out the uniform and sprits himself with scent neutralizer while he watched the well-loved bunny beside him pull on the dark blue vest that completed her uniform was well worth it. The sex had certainly been a bonus.

"Are you always like this when I'm in uniform?" he asked, adjusting the tie that she hadn't let go of until she'd been satisfied. "If so, I feel I should wear it all the time. But then, how do we ever get any work done?"

"Very carefully," she snorted in reply, looking up at him with bright amethyst eyes that nearly glowed with an excited energy. "It's really good to see you in uniform again, Slick."

Turning to look at himself in the mirror, he considered what he saw for a long moment as he let his paws fall away from the tie. He had memories of himself in this uniform, as sparse as they were. And of course, he had seen pictures of himself. Newspaper clippings, the graduation photos with his mom and Judy, and the multitude of shots on her phone. But that fox had almost looked like a stranger to him. Not what he was seeing now, not after the feeling of pride he had experienced when he had taken his time making sure that the uniform was neat and everything was in order. It still felt a little strange.

Then a tiny paw moved to the knot of his tie, and he watched as she tugged it down a few inches away from the collar. He glanced down to Judy as she adjusted it again and then hung his pair of aviator sunglasses from the front of his shirt as she grinned up at him. Then she turned and his gaze followed hers to the mirror.

The uniform looked better, more natural to him. A little more relaxed, though no less official with the brass shield shining on his chest. The memories would come in time, but now he understood that the memories were not needed for him to be who he was. And it was the bunny beside him, leaning against his side with a look of unparalleled delight on her face at the prospect of having her partner back, that made the picture complete.

This was Nicholas Wilde and everything – everyone – that made him who he was.

"You ready to get back to it, partner?" his wife chirped, quite literally bouncing as she made her way out the door.

Pausing for a second, he stepped over to the dresser beside the bed and tugged the drawer open. The carrot pen sat, with its message to them both unchanged for the years they had been married. Years that he would get back, eventually. But for now, he would hold onto everything he had and build on everything they shared. Reaching in, he picked up the pen and tucked it into his shirt pocket before facing the mirror again.

"Of course I am," he grinned, giving the fox in the mirror a private salute before he turned to follow her. "One hundred percent."


End file.
